I have a problem. No, I’m not referring to my obsession with documentaries about the morbidly obese or the happiness that I derive from making muffins late at night (although those may be connected and could undoubtedly use a blog post to dissect). Rather, I am referring to the unbelievably fast way in which I say “no.”
It’s been awhile since I have written about my attempts to spice up my life, so I decided that it was about time to sit down and share some things that happened at the start of this semester. The biggest thing, other than getting back into the swing of things at college, was that I attempted to add working out into my routine. Right now you are probably rolling your eyes thinking of the millions who commit to working out at the beginning of the New Year, well…I am one of those people. However, I did not plan on ending in a few weeks since I had a firm belief that I would start to actually enjoy working out. Haha, not really, I just believed that after repeated workouts, my brain would respond to the perceived trauma by pumping me full of endorphins to numb the misery.