Personal Best

[muckefuck]

Me and Crazy Downstairs Roommate get along well, but that doesn't mean that every now and then he doesn't get my goat by passing out in an overmedicated stupor with his tunes cranked up too loud. I thought it was a boom car outside when I woke up in the wee hours, but my chief suspect drove off and the vibrating bass beat stayed.

So what to do? I slipped out of bed and went through a workout regime of the likes I never have time for on an ordinary day. Now, this is going to sound like nothing to you gonzo gym buddies out there, but keep in mind that I'm as in shape as a coat hanger used for a craft project. I don't think I've done this well since college:

Crunches: 300
Leg Lifts: 300
Kegel Exercises: 100
Whatever You Call It When You Lie Prone, Grab Your Ankles, And Lift Your Upper Body Off The Ground: 100

Now it only hurts when I (a) breathe; (b) walk; (c) get hard.

Also, I know want ALL THE FOOD. I was going to swing into Dixie Kitchen on my way in, but autopilot (and a particularly gripping passage in the novel I'm reading) conspired to keep me on the train for one more stop. No matter; a hearty brunch at Golden Olympic is on the docket for later this morning.

EDIT: OMG I am full--of classic rock! How did I ever start the day before without Queen, Heart, and Bon Jovi at my ear?

Comments

[my-tallest.livejournal.com]

I'm reminded of American Psycho: "I can do over a thousand."

Good lord, like I needed to be thinking of Christian Bale at work. Hmmm, Christian Bale doing Kegel Exercises.

Yeah, I'm aware of the irony of failing for that particular insane image of perfection.