Lather, rinse, ABORT, ABORT

I am become a real person.

I graduated in December and now I sit in my apartment all day while all my friends are in class because I have not yet acquired enough work hours to be full time.

So I watched all of Orange is the New Black in one week. And I take a lot of naps. And I play a lot of Candy Crush. And I basically don't do anything productive. But I have been going to the gym.

Boyfriend and I signed up for Maxx Fitness in Auburn so we could stop being fatty fat fat walruses and get healthy and whatnot. And they're doing a student special (shh don't tell them I lied) that includes one free personal training session.

So yesterday I went in at 11 a.m. and met with this really buff bald dude who was asking me about my fitness goals and took my body fat percentage, which was quite discouraging, and then told me that I should gain 11 pounds of muscle and lose 29 pounds of body fat. Which actually only means I need to "lose" 18 pounds. That is far superior to the 50 I originally thought I would have to lose.

And then we decided that we would do a chest workout. And that, friends, is where my mistake lies. I thought, my chest is really weak so maybe a training session would be good for me.

Ooooor it would make me unable to wash my hair for weeks.

Firstly, I would like to say that I bench pressed 45 pounds, which amazed me because I thought I was literally strength-less in the chesticles. I mean I only did it like...15 times but still! Go me!

And then I did a whole lot of flies (I think like 100 altogether) and then I felt like jello. I always thought I felt like jello after my workouts, but I guess I never knew what it felt like to truly fatigue a muscle because Jesus H. it was intense. I struggled to drive home.

Then I had to shower, because, you know, sweat. And I sort of lifted my arms very slowly to wash my hair, but I just could not sustain the movement. So I turned toward my shower wall, propped up my elbows, and moved my hands around my head as best as I could without using any upper arm/chest strength. It was not the best lather I've ever had.

And now my range of movement is shockingly limited. It will probably be moreso tomorrow, as I did back today and it was just as difficult.

I just want to be able to wash my armpits and wash dishes, you know?

I wish binge watching TV shows was considering exercise. I would be such a professional.

Raise your hand if you want to help me bathe. Unless your chesticles hurt too. Then you wouldn't be able to help me. In fact, you wouldn't even be able to raise your hand. Maybe we could clean each other with our feet.

Okay this just got weird.

Bye.