7am, and the neighbor's gardener is mere feet from where I'm sleeping, weed whacking along the fence. Fuck.
What greets me when I step outside my bedroom. One is begging for food, the other for a walk.
Instead I hide away in the guest bedroom, where I keep my bike trainer. I think this face is saying "fuck I look awful in the morning." Morning Ugly. Serious medical condition. Coming soon to a webmd.com near you.
One hour and 16.something miles later, I'm in a much better mood. Well, as good a mood as I an be in, considering a stupid weed whacker woke me up 1.5 hours before I needed to be up.
I walk my stupid dog.
And drive to work.
This is riveting shit, right?
The first thing I do when I get to work is get myself a cup of coffee.
30 minutes later I'm on cup #2, and finally ready to deal with my employees.
I do normal work shit in the morning. Shift through too many emails. Deal with small problems. Put out fires.
Around 10am I eat "breakfast," aka a family size back of spicy pork rinds. Sorry, gents, I'm taken, as sexy as this is. Don't judge me, because they're fucking delicious.
Okay, judge me. It is kind of gross.
For lunch I run to the store and pick up break room supplies and vending machine stock.
Plus, you know, actual lunch.
And a quick stop at the bank so I can pay my personal trainer. I'd love to say he crafts this body for free, but, alas, no.
"I drink diet coke" is the only caption I could think of for this.
I eat at my desk every day. Sometimes I work. Sometimes I just browse the internet. I'm an introvert. Lunch is "me" time. It doesn't stop people from coming in to my office while I'm mid-chew and asking me for things. But, hey, I'm the boss. It's my job. But, if I sat in the break room I'd have to socialize through lunch, and I don't think I could handle that every day.
Chugging 32 oz of water.
Stocking the vending machine. I think I'm the only one who buys the oreos.
Still working on my sandwich. I keep getting distracted and interrupted.
The rest of my day is equally thrilling. Writing some copy for a promotional email. Looking up sales figures. Small business usually means jack of all trades.
5pm means time to head to my trainer's. I change in my office.
I am perpetually early to things. I park across the street with 8 minutes until I'm supposed to roll in the door, so I play AndroidMinion on my phone.
A quick pause in my trainer's lobby to take an ass picture in the mirror, and I'm good to go.
No pictures of me training because I'm pretty sure my trainer doesn't know I have a blog, and it would just feel weird.
We talked about Tosh.0 and Workaholics and physical deformations and midget vaginas.
5 35lb single arm dumbbell cleans (per side)
10 (per side) reverse lunges while doing rope slams the whole time
25 push ups using gymnastics rings
60 second plank
15 (per side) toe touch crunches
We spent a lot of times on the cleans. The apartment gym is lacking in the dumbbell department. The dumbbells jump in weight from 10lbs to 35lbs. So, the 35lbs was definitely a struggle. We tried adding jumps to my clean to make it better. I focused a lot on form, because at that weight poor form could fuck my shit up.
My trainer complimented me on gaining the weight back, and I admitted to eating like shit for the past few weeks "because I could." While physically I mostly can, considering how much I work out, and how awesome my genes are (mostly the genes, to be fair), it's still not GOOD for me to eat poorly on a regular basis. So, I need to reign it in. A little bit.
We have no meat thawed at home, so I swing by the grocery store, and get distracted by pork rinds. Single track mind.
Hot food line. I got grilled chicken and carnitas. Mmmmmmm.
On the drive home I eat a pound of strawberries. It's only three miles. I was hungry.
I dump the groceries on the counter and hop in the shower.
I like ducks.
My husband was working late, so he told me to eat without him. I put on The Glee Project. I enjoy the show, even though I quit watching Glee halfway through last year.
Dinner part 2. And then I watched move tv, read for an hour, and went to bed.