Betcha never thought you'd see this post

Yes, it's true, I've done the seemingly impossible. I worked out on Tuesday.

If you read my "100 things," you know that exercise and I don't get along. At all. I much prefer stilettos to running shoes any day of the week. But the boyfriend went and asked me on Monday if I wanted to work out the next day, and before I knew it I said... "Sure!"

What's with the enthusiasm, you say? Your guess is as good as mine. All I know is that the muscle tone in my stomach, arms, thighs (yeah, everywhere) is kind of, um, gone.

If a situation ever needed rectifying for me, it's that one. And I can tell you from many years of experience, it's not going to be fixed by changing the way I eat. Give up chips? And beer? And cookies? And my beloved many tons of cheese? Yeah right. I shiver at the mere thought (read: go into sweaty convulsions of withdrawal).

Also, and now that I think about it, I'm sure this is the key here - I'm going to Florida with the boyfriend in January. Which means I have to wear a swim suit. In January. A swim suit. Sure, my skin can be as white as the snow falling outside this very minute, I can wear flip flops from four years ago, and I can even go down there without getting my roots done first. But expose my wobbly bits? Eeeeeeeew.

I may be a size 2, peeps, but that doesn't mean I don't have wobbly bits.