Perils of self improvement

Well, Real Housewives of Silicon Valley won't be calling me anytime soon! Partly, yes, because I realize the obvious...not a housewife...but really half of the characters on that series aren't either. However, the main reason there won't be a 5'2" little on the fluffy side CA blonde with a southern accent is because I suck at the whole self preservation thing.  I mean, I really do! 

As we know I refused to take out a loan just to buy a whole new wardrobe of the next size (or 2) up so I reentered the world of work out mania.  Small problem...it is a whole new world out there...a world with smart machines and interactive screens and computers that keep track of your every calorie spent.  I'm sure that sounds good to some people but I have a firm belief if I can't be smarter than the machine then I probably shouldn't be on it.  That means trouble in this new high tech age we live in.

I've been going to the gym for about 6 weeks but didn't get my formal machine training until 2 weeks ago so I just avoided anything that looked too technical.  I know how to ride a bike, do the old school elliptical and cruise along with the trusty treadmill so I stuck to what I knew.  Well, armed with my new found training on the super machines I figured how bad could it be.  I should have known better!  I logged in to the master computer just fine but was thankful it was 5:30 in the morning so people expected everyone to look a little dazed.  I jumped on the elliptical I knew...not because I was scared but because you can't just abandon the old when you find the new, right?  Don't judge, just agree! After getting my cardio on, it was time for weights.  I breezed (well sort of sauntered) through the first one, very pleased with myself for not being too intimidated by that mean old 6 inch screen when I stepped over to machine 2.  I had not been trained on this machine...it was a tad foreign to me.  After 3 minutes of staring at the contraption just trying to figure out how to move the seat I decided who cares if it is set up for someone not related to the oompa loompas and sat down.  When my feet couldn't reach the weights and the computer kept beeping at me I decided it was time to play the "huh, what is that sound?  This machine must be broken" game and walked away...quickly grabbed my sweatshirt and headed for Starbucks.  Never in my life have I had trouble ordering a latte.

You'd have thought I'd have called it a day and gone back to bed but no, I persevered and decided to end my day with my ritual spray tan.  New girl at the desk was very puzzled by my request for the Level 1 spray...so much so she argued, tried to convince me no one ever does level 1 (every week I do!!) and then had to look up the directions.  Really, it is a spray tan, how hard could it be?!  I knew I was in trouble when the trainee with the pink hair and double tongue piercing agreed with me and said "Yeah, you don't want to look orange, right man?  Totally get it."  I know life is tough when the only person who gets me has hair the color of cotton candy.

So now, with a nice glass of Cab, dinner and DVR'd episodes of Hawaii Five-O and NCIS LA, I am going to revel in the comfort of my sweats and tackle looking hot tomorrow.