Saved by Michael Jackson

Got to the gym today despite complete lack of enthusiasm for breaking any kind of sweat or accelerating my heart rate.

It was blah city today. I just couldn't motivate. After 30 listless and boring minutes on the elliptical, I was about to pull the plug.

Then, through my earphones, a voice started whispering. It was a man. The words weren't clear, but I was compelled to listen. It was a message, just for me: "Don't Stop 'Til You Get Enough, Ish."

Alright, I added the Ish, but it did seem like Michael Jackson was speaking directly to me. He popped on the video screen, all swiveling hips and elfin moves.



This sent me off on a long, stream-of-consciousness sort of thought about how much I like to dance, and how fun it is to dance to old Michael Jackson songs, and how much I enjoyed dancing at my friend's wedding last year.

Then I remembered I've just been invited to another wedding this summer, and I thought about how I won't wear such high heels that I almost kill myself dancing, and then I thought that hopefully I will be able to find a better dress than the gray sack I wore last year, and so on, and so on....until, suddenly, I was energized again!

I finished my hour and did my lifts and toddled home and now am preparing to go to a friend's for part of the Stupor Bowl. Just downed a big bowl of Chobani to keep hunger at bay. There are sure to be loads of snacks. Boat loads. My plan is to ignore them and haul M out of there as fast as I decently can. We have a low-cal supper planned for when we get back home. There's really no need for me to eat there at all.

Happy Stupor Bowl, everybody!