Ever since January 1st, well, really January 2nd (when the hangover wore off), Heidi and I have been trying to eat well and start working out again. It's been going well, I suppose, and SURE, it's only been like two weeks but WHATEVER.
Part of the reason for this new healthy lifestyle is because I have to wear a bridesmaid's dress in May but mostly? It's because I feel so much better when I don't eat shit all the time. And by shit I don't mean like, SHIT SHIT, but like, you know, bad food that is . . . bad for you. Plus? I feel morally superior to the people at work when I'm eating my carrots and turkey sandwich and they're scarfing down McDonald's. What can I say? I'm an asshole, but I know how to make it work for me.
I've made a few exceptions. I haven't cut alcohol out of my diet, because honestly? I'd rather drink than eat, thank you very much, unless we're talking about cheesecake, in which case POUR SOME RUM ON THAT SUCKER AND LET'S FLAMBE THE SHIT OUT OF IT AND ALSO PASS THE FORK. Um. Right, so anyway, it was also decided last Saturday that Wendy's doesn't count as fast food when you're hungover. For real, though, it was an emergency.
This morning I was listening to my favorite radio station in the whole wide world and after playing The One I Love, the DJ was like, "That was R.E.M. When I was in school, I learned that R.E.M stands for Rapid Eye Movement," and I don't know why, but that made me laugh so hard that I almost drove my car off the road. Which would have been sort of OK, because it means I wouldn't be at work today (I mean, it's not like I would have WALKED the rest of the way) but it also means, you know, my car would be stuck on the side of the road. And I'd like to avoid that, if at all possible, OK? Good talk.
Today on The Collective, give us some book recommendations. Please?