I’ve decided I’ve put on far too much weight. I need to exercise.
(Several hundred more hours in a day would help out with this quite a lot)
It hit me when I was puffing after a short sprint to the car – but I never have been a fan of the short sprint.
Then during my massage this afternoon (one of those deliciously scrumptious hurty ones), where I felt as though I was being kneaded.
The crunch came, however, when I quietly whispered to Grumpy that I really was sick of being fat and what my intentions where, and Monkey Boy pipes up (from the other side of the room – how did he hear that!) “Yeah, you