Jim! I mean, Gym!

My hubby helped me set up the “gym” in our newly liberated front bedroom.  I have a surprising number of fitness equipment for one so out of shape!

I took a turn on the treadmill yesterday after work.  It’s a bit old and has these little fits where it slows down and then the tread shoots past under your feet, so I find it best to hold on to the handrails.  Death by treadmill would be a terrible way to go.

The most important part of my new gym is the TV and DVD player donated by my brother.  This way I can tread along to Supernatural episodes!  I must have something to distract me otherwise the pain I developed in my leg about five minutes in would have ended my bid for fitdom!

I weighed myself, but have since decided to do this from the inside out.  What I mean is, I will walk on the treadmill and do some muscle toning in order to feel better.  Physically and mentally.  I will be able to walk up stairs without having to take a nap afterwards!  If I happen to lose weight in the process then so much the better!  If I fixate on my weight then I’m doomed from the start.

Here we go!



I’ve been told I need to be more accepting.  Of people, of the way things are and so on and so forth.

While this may be true there are certain things that I just cannot accept.  Three of them have to do with my love of certain TV shows.

Let me share with you.

1. Obviously empty cups

For example: I love Castle.  Every day Castle brings Beckett a gigantic coffee and every day she tips it up like she’s sucking out the dregs.  It’s a brand new coffee!!  It’s full!!  This cannot be!!  THE BURNING!!!

Look how big!


There she goes … and that’s not even the best illustration.Image

2. Obviously empty boxes

My beloved Mentalist most recently tortured me with this one.  Something along the lines of, “I’ll have the case files brought up from storage.”

Then when they come they’re slinging them around like they’re jam packed with cotton candy.  Come on, throw a rock in there or something!  I’ve moved full banker’s boxes.  They’re damn heavy!  Either everyone in the CBI is a super hero … or the props department has failed me. 😉


3. Obviously not on a phone call phone calls

I notice this most with iPhones because I have one.  They’re yammering away and you can see that they’re not on a call.  I suppose they could have switched back to their home screen thing while I wasn’t looking … but really.  C’mon!  How am I supposed to pretend that this world is real when you’re missing these things?  You’re ruining my escapist evening of delightful TV shows!


The main question that arises from all this is: Why do these things bother me so much?

The answer: I’m nuts.


My problem with writing is that I never know where to start.  I tend to come to an idea right in the middle.  A flash of something exciting; a moment in time that could be meaningful.

How do I find the beginning of that idea?  Where did that moment come from?  This is where I fall down.  But then I thought, Maybe that is the beginning.

Who says you can’t start right in the middle!?  Probably someone, but what do they know!

I haven’t been thinking about writing much these days anyway because I have a nemesis.  An evil being that is dragging me down and plans to kill me!  This nemesis is also known as the 50 pounds of flab I’ve been dragging around with me. Blurgh!

I never had a problem with my weight.  I grew up thin, I didn’t work out and I was able to eat whatever I wanted and never gain weight.  Yes, I was one of them.  However, around the age of 26 I started to go to the gym because I was getting a  bit soft.

Then … I started working at home … *sigh*

Working at home was great! It had a lot of good points.  Me taking care of myself wasn’t one of them.  I stopped going to the gym.  I met a wonderful guy and since I was making good money we ate out a lot.

I started gaining weight but didn’t really notice.  I’m not sure how I didn’t notice because at some point my clothes stopped fitting and even to this day I wear my hubby’s t-shirts because I refuse to buy new clothes.  Denial?

The most annoying part of being overweight at this point is that some part of my brain still pictures myself as I was 5 years ago.  Then I’ll be walking past a store front and catch sight of myself in the windows,  do a double take, scream out HOLY SHIT IS THAT ME?!, feel terrible and go home and eat some chocolate.

I remember the first time I really saw myself as chubby.  The place I was living had a bathroom mirror that was so high on the wall that I could only really see my head.  My friend had a baby and we went out to visit her in Calgary.  It was in her bathroom that I came face to flab with the horrible truth.  She had a mirror that was placed so you could actually see yourself and I remember just staring at my boobs and my tummy.  Where did all that fat come from?

I’m telling you this, cyber-world, because maybe if I put something out there I will be more motivated to do something about it.

I can almost live with not being able to fit in my clothes.  I can’t live with my knees hurting, my back hurting, running out of breath going up the stairs, seeing my new underwear and thinking it’s a towel.

It’s time to sort this shit out!