By Sloane Solomon
It’s winter—a blustery January afternoon. I’m sitting outside as I write this, bundled up in a parka, gloves, Uggs and earmuffs. Ha, just kidding. I’m sitting outside with my laptop not so safely perched on my lap as I soak my feet in my delightfully warm pool. I can hardly believe another New Year’s Eve has come and gone. I can hardly believe this was the first New Year’s I didn’t wake up with my head wedged firmly between a stranger’s toilet and their upturned waste basket. This was the first New Year’s where not only did I keep my overpriced but deliciously champagne-fueled dinner safely tucked away inside my small intestine, but I actually went to bed a few minutes after the digital clock on my phone struck midnight.
Why is this so significant? Dear readers, don’t you see? I am aged. I am old. I am tired. I cannot party ‘til the wee hours of the morning and stumble home around dawn only to wake up 12 hours later for my nightly feeding before returning back to my deliciously fluffy bed. No, I am an adult now. And I feel like I really have been practicing what I’ve been preaching.
I cannot party ‘til the wee hours of the morning and stumble home around dawn only to wake up 12 hours later for my nightly feeding before returning back to my deliciously fluffy bed.
For example: I realized that during the last year my ass, my perfectly round Jewish bubble butt, had morphed into something that not even Tyra Banks would wear on her annual “I’m Not Really Fat, I’m Just Insensitively Wearing a Fat Suit” episode. So I decided that I would get healthy, once and for all. I’m eating smaller portions, I’m making better decisions, and I’m not falling for that “Drive-Thru Diet” B.S., even though I could live off Double Decker tacos with nacho cheese sauce dripping suggestively off the crispy corn edges of a nuclear yellow taco shell. Mmm, Taco Bell…But no! No kids, I’m getting healthy the Heidi Montag way—I’m asking Jesus to turn cellulite into cellu-tight! (Jesus is the name of a personal trainer I found on Craigslist. For an extra 20 bucks he will also accompany you in the shower after the workout.)
Oh, and did I mention I’m currently employed? I started working for my friend’s dog walking business. It’s not a career I would have ever seen myself doing but you know what? I like dogs a lot better than I like people. I get to be outside, sweating, picking up poop, and dying from dehydration. No, honestly, this is a fantastic job and it’s a lot of fun, I highly recommend getting your paw into the door in this business. It’s easy, great exercise, and it pays amazingly well.
I have to say between a great job, more defined glutes, and a super sweet boyfriend, I’m doing pretty well in 2010. I’m going to make this my best year yet. And if I don’t, so what? It’s all over in 2012 anyways. Sorry, gotta go. Jesus is here for another Shower Power Hour. Boy do I suddenly love working out.
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