I'm going back to the gym

Really I am. Today. I'm going today. If I lay around here all day, I'll just feel guilty that I didn't sweep the floor or fold the laundry. But if I go to the gym, I can come home and do nothing else the entire night. Its justified in my mind.

My dearest Bradley says he's going to quit Fatness. I'm OK with that. He doesn't have a lot of free time. He's usually at the office until 2 a.m. and who wants to go to Fatness then? Plus they're not open 24 hours (despite their name) and he can't go on weekends. He really does have valid points. As if to drive the point home, his W.W. left today for 16 days, meaning that he'll be working the next 2 weeks straight. Poor Bradie.

I, on the other hand, have no excuse. (Except for my claims that the tuberculosis has returned and this time its active. OK, not really.) I was messing around with Toonces' N.Y. itinerary and it says that she's only got 88 days until departure. If my vacation starts 11 days before her's, that means I've only got 77 days. And I've vowed to lose 80 pounds before we leave. That means that I've got to get to the gym.

Here I go.

I'm really going now.