As I am about to dive back into the world of adulthood (there was a time, long ago, when I was in full time employment and paid rent) I have realised it's time I started budgeting. First thing to go - gym membership.
Who were my thighs kidding? I haven't been inside my gym's hallowed walls in... 18... no, maybe 30 months... Some gyms just do not want you to leave, as soon as you try to cancel they look you up and down with judgement in their eyes and tell you all the reasons you should stay, all the while hinting that you're probably going to get fat and die of heart failure. Heaven forbid you don't go for a week; they email you and tell you that you've probably gained 30lbs because you couldn't be bothered to put your sports bra on. Have they any idea how tricky sports bras are to maneuver? Who designed them?! A contortionist?
Fortunately the cancellation procedure with my gym was painless and there was no need to forge a doctor's note to get out of an iron-clad policy. For once I had made a good decision when I signed up to one of these new fangled gyms, you know, the ones that don't actually care.
I miss it already, mainly for the view it offered.
So, after consulting my thighs on my recent budget cut they, to my horror, began to protest. Apparently no longer having a gym membership means, automatically, that I need to do some exercise to make up for it. I tried to disagree but who can argue with those adorable dimples? Oh that's cellulite... right.
I started out going for the free exercise option - running. Running is not for me. It doesn't seem to agree with the female members of my immediate family and, having recently consulted my cousin, my extended family. It's clearly genetic and therefore, I shan't run anymore.
After a lengthy consultation with the internet I decided that Josie Gibson's 30 Second Slim would be the way to go for the following reasons:
1. She's called Josie. I'm called Josie.
2. She's from the West Country, which is where my peeps hail from.
3. She tells you how lazy she is - I'm lazy too.
4. Her trainer tells her to keep going and uses my name. It's like he's training me personally. He also has nice muscles.
5. I can wear my granny pants and cartoon t-shirts whilst exercising.
6. I don't have to wear restrictive fashionable gym gear.
7. I don't have to exercise next to a man whose sweat smells of onions.
8. I don't have to worry about how I smell.
9. I can grunt in agony without anyone staring.
10. I don't have to leave my house!
I'm not going to lie to you, I've tried it and I am crap. But, you know, there's a lot of chat at the moment about summer coming... Wait, let me be clear, Summer is clearly not coming to England, that would be ridiculous, but to Europe, where people holiday. And other places far away that get sunshine, I forget their names. And, well, all this talk of getting a bikini body has made those little dimples in my thighs wink at me suggestively, and, quite frankly, it freaks the lazy out of me.
I'm assuming this desire to exercise is temporary. The press is to blame, I'm sure of it. That or my friend who goes to the gym at 6am most mornings and claims she enjoys it. I don't believe she really enjoys it, I think she enjoys having toned abs and making other women jealous. In all honesty, I think that's the only reason women exercise, because we're competitive bitches at heart and we love making other people feel inferior.
Anyway, I am now saving £19.99pcm, which this month I have already spent on cinema tickets. Dammit.
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