I'm up. I've been up for quite awhile. That's because I went to bed at 10:30. Would you like to know why?
In case you did not read the day I announced that I watched an infomercial at 1 in the morning and got right online and ordered $104 worth of workout DVDs even though I am unemployed, please note: I watched an infomercial at 1 in the morning and got right online and ordered $104 worth of workout DVDs even though I am unemployed.
That was several weeks ago, which just gave me ample time to get fatter, and finally this thing–this…THING–came yesterday. When my body still had parts that did not ache. When I could still walk upright. Back then, you could tell from the way I used my walk I'm a woman, man.
No time to talk.
Anyway, so the thing came and it has all this STUFF to read. There are instructions for how to do this workout (i.e., constantly) and what to eat (i.e., nothing you've ever heard of. Today I am going out to get parsnips. PARSNIPS! I don't even snow that that is. Is it like a parson who snips something? Nipples that have been parsed? I don't know. I'm going to find out. And eat it. Because I am effing starving).
First she has you do a "dance cardio" workout–which is basically jumping around like I have hot pokers and cobras on my floor–for half an hour. After you have done that, she actually suggests–ACTUALLY SUGGESTS–that if you are feeling energetic still, you can do the workout again.
I was ready to check myself into the ICU. DO IT AGAIN? Sister, Ima lie down with the cobras and pokers now.
THEN, I had to do ANOTHER half hour of muscle training, which involved me kicking my legs out like a dog at a fire hydrant for 30 minutes. You would not BELIEVE how long you do these leg kick things. You want to reach right through the screen and impale her with a fire hydrant.
This is why 10:30 looked like an excellent time to limp over to the sack last night. And when I woke up this morning at 7:00? NOTHING DID NOT HURT.
I realize that was an excellent sentence. And I have to do the thing OVER again TODAY. And you know I'm doing it. I paid $104 that I do not have, so I am using this thing till I die. Which could be 15 minutes into the DVD today.
I guess I could have stampeded right here and blogged immediately, but I was too sore.
Isn't Tracy Gold the actress who had the eating disorder? That was a lovely and sensitive joke on my part, then. "Just seven hours of working out daily! The Tracy Gold workout DVD!"
No wonder God is punishing me with my life.
After that, I organized my vanity. I mean, not my personal ability to be vain. If I could do that I'd never have spent $104 to be rendered crippled. I hate all of those mascaras. The only one I ever really liked was Illegal Lengths and they discontinued it. Please see above re God hating me. And yes, Joann, I have used the highfalutin' stuff, too. Chanel, Lancome, you name it. HATE IT.
Obviously I have high expectations of what I need my mascara to do.
After that, I minced over here–it's my NECK that hurts the most, I assume from the 394858493 sit-ups. Oh, did I not mention we did sit-ups till an alien popped out my marsupial pouch? Anyway, I minced over here and organized all my pictures on my desktop.
Do you have any idea how many photos I take of my pets? I guess you do.
In a bit, I will go out and buy some delicious parsnips. I can hardly wait. Then I will come home and sweat to the Goldie. I have to stop calling her Tracy Gold.
I will write again when I am thin.