Nothing to see here. Move along, people. Ahhhh, well, so what happened is that the dog ate my homework. Um, ok, I just ended going straight from PJ’s to work-out clothes, to grocery store, to home, back to PJ’s. I had the outfit, I just never got into the outfit.
And trust me, you don’t need to see what I look like when I’m wearing my work-out clothes because I only wear them when I’m working out. The clothes are just fine, thank you. It’s the other part of the equation that has issues. No make-up, sweaty, ok, really sweaty, bad hair in a pony tail, sweaty.
Did I mention the sweat? I would much rather you envision me as a gym angel™. You know the ones who always look super hot and cute, they’re bright-eyed and their cheeks get just flushed enough, they never have to pant audibly or choke trying to get the last drop from the water bottle. I, on the other hand, I get crazy eye* after running and sprinting for an hour.
But I’m running for AN HOUR. How kick-ass is that? I don’t care what I look like when I’m done. Seriously.
But I am sweaty. No picture for you.
Gym Angel™: I just made that up. They’re kind of mythical, like airbrushed unicorns.
* From the movie “The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou”