Heft

Blargh. I am not feeling well. I am eating way too much (as I sit here and snack on Sun Chips) and I am not exercising. I feel like a giant stuffed sausage! My clothes are too tight. It is hot outside.

I am not complaining about it being hot, though! My policy as a sun-lover is to never complain when we get it, here is dark, rainy, dreary Seattle. When it's nice in Seattle, this has to be the most beautiful place on earth. When it's nine months of "winter," it is insufferable. So, even in 90+ degree weather, well, I just keep my dang mouth shut.

Except I'm telling you because my clothes are so friggin hot and tight and uncomfortable. I had to *remind* myself that it is 90+ degrees outside and EVERYONE's clothes are hot and tight and uncomfortable! Well, mine is heat related, but mostly sloth-related, I'm afraid.

My friend Sabrina looks amazing - she has been doing fitness boot camp for months now and it has done incredible things for her physique. A coworker here had lost a lot of weight and regained 10 pounds, which she has recently taken off again and looks amazing. I've been reading Kim's blog and I am jealous at how successful her training plan is going.

I am wearing the world's most beat-up hoodie and t-shirt at work. And yoga pants.

This, my friends, is the bottom of the barrel. Rock bottom.

Next week, I am hoping to ride my bike to work again. It genuinely is too hot for me to ride right now, but also we're going camping for a few days so it's not feasible. Next week.

Did I tell you my daughter and I are doing the Seattle Biggest Loser Half Marathon in October? Yes, we are! This will be her first half marathon, and thankfully, she is taking training more seriously than me. She gave me a stern lecture about needing to get on the training program.

We've just been so stinking busy! Greg is all moved in, but we are wall to wall furniture and duplicates of everything. It is uncomfortably crowded at home. I'm pretty minimalistic, anyway, but all the extra stuff has me in claustrophobic fits. Thankfully, with Greg, who is awesome at cleaning and organizing, it won't be this way for long, I'm sure.

He's better than me: I *need* to live in a clean, organized environment or I am in fits, but I lack any skills whatsoever to clean or organized. So, basically, I live in fits.

I'll turn this around; I have to. I am so uncomfortable and yucked right now, it is really weighing me down. No pun intended, haha.