Attention Co-Workers.....

.....please keep all hands and feet inside your cubicle at all times. Melissa is starting another weight loss adventure and if she doesn't have a nervous breakdown and start trying to eat human appendages, she may just kick you hard because she's grumpy. Or, something like that.

Ok, seriously...I'm not going to go all cannibal or anything. But, after weeks of prodding, I caved in to The Husband's request to order PX90 or P90X or whatever it is called. He said he wants to transform his abs into a six-pack but I told him they look fine as a 2-liter, just like mine! He has been talk, talk, talking about how we NEED to get this (I didn't even know what it was until last night. I kept telling him I'm not taking any weird non-FDA approved diet drug).

Poor, sweet innocent boy. He has never really had to concern himself with the issue of weight loss, unlike my experienced self who has been dieting or thinking about dieting since I was about 8 years old when I looked in the mirror at dance class and decided my head was way too small for my body (don't worry my head has caught up now....kinda). Which is why when he declared we are going to do this insane workout (it is 13 DVDs targeted to confuse your muscles so you never plateau) I just chuckled under my breath. It is an hour or two EVERYday for 90 days along with an eating plan. I was like what? You mean I exercise for an hour and I don't get to eat what I want? Hmmmm, that sounds familiar.....I think the common phrase for that is called "boot camp". And, the timing of 90 days leading up to Christmas, I'm "lol"ing as I type......

So, yes, my faithful readers....you've walked this walk with me before with my Wii Fit and my Jillian Michaels (well, not really because I only did her dvd twice), and I think we also marched through a Biggest Loser competition with some friends in which I only won because I took laxatives the night before we weighed in.....but, I digress. I have lowered the bar of my expectations this time. My goal is to merely live through an hour of daily exercise and eating who-knows-what for 90 days. All I want is to have a pulse at the end of it and not to have devoured some unsuspecting co-worker in the process.