As I prepare to drag my butt to the gym to continue to fight the never ending battle against my tummy and thighs, it occurs to me that today is Valentine's Day. And aside from the well meaning texts and emails from supportive girlfriends and a possible call or two from the not so well intentioned ex-boyfriends, I'm not getting squat on this blessed Hallmark holiday. Sigh. But it's actually okay because what I really, really, really want for V-Day, I'd probably never receive. What is it? Well since you asked, aside from two dozen roses, a funny card, diamond earrings, a BMW 6-series drop-top and a trip to Tahiti with my ten closest friends; All I really want is some Bliss FatGirlSlim cellulite cream.
Why of all unromantic things in the world would I want FatGirlSlim cellulite cream you ask?
Simple: Because there's nothing I dislike more than diet soda/food/ shakes/ plans/anything and working out. And even if it's not doing anything, slathering this bad boy on every day makes me feel good dammit. Which is more than I can say for excercise.
Paying my gym membership every months pains me like child support like I was Eddie kicking down Scary Spice. The sight of an elliptical machine makes my my head hurt like the photos of the pantyless tragedy that is now Britney Spears. Every sit-up makes me want to slap the taste out of some skinny chick passing me with me coordinated workout outfit. I despise pilates. And I have never, ever, ever acheived that mythical state of runners high that people insist exists. On the contrary, when I see people jogging in the park my first thought is - 'Look at those fools running to their deaths.' I know, I know, not nice. But if it makes you feel any better I've started to pray on it, literally.
Every morning, when I say my morning prayers I add a line or two about the need for self restraint around chocolate, and the desire for a miraculous warp speed increase in my metabolism. Shallow? Possibly. Honest? Definately.