After only leaving my house three or four times in the past eight days, I've officially succumbed to cabin fever. I know, I know... no one feels sorry for the gal who works in her pajamas, and I found it a fabulous life for most of the week, but today I find myself talking aloud to no one and wandering aimlessly through my house. Granted, I could clean or exercise or do some much-needed work, but none of those things have happened, and probably won't.
Instead, I find myself sitting in front of the television for hours, watching professional football games that are over by the end of the first quarter. Taking long naps. Hot baths. And eating everything in sight.
After weeks of denial, I finally stepped on the scale this morning. Granted, it wasn't as bad as I expected, but I have put on 14 pounds in the past two months, and all of my pants are too tight.
So today's the last day of sloth. Better eating starts tomorrow, as does exercise. I actually purchased "Dancing with the Stars" cardio workout DVD last week since I love to dance and hate to exercise, but I'm guessing I'll make it about five minutes before passing out from my paso doble.
I also ordered a cool little gadget called a FitBook, recommended by work Jennifer (AKA Pam).
This is the first weekend in three months I haven't had plans, and I don't like it. Must. Get. A. Life.
Going stir crazy.
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