I joined a gym. It recently opened next to my house. The boy behind the counter started saying unpleasant numbers, like $62 for this and $125 for that.
I channeled my inner Desi auntie in a display of skills that would make me cringe in the past as a little girl watching my mom haggling and ended up paying $10 to join.
I’m so excited. I have a little keychain card and everything.
I had taken it as a sign that I needed to start working out again when my Panera Bread swipe card snapped off my keychain from overuse.
Also, my job will kill me if I allow it. I’ve been letting 20 percent of my week dictate the other 80 percent but it’s time to do a switcheroo.