Okay, so I had a few weak moments. That just means I need to kick things into a higher gear. So in addition to the Cheating on the Farmer part of the plan (which is ongoing and great slutty fun), I have several other distracting activities on tap:
Step 3: Spring Cleaning
But for real, this time. Like windows and shit. Stop laughing, Husband.
Step 4: Exercise
I know what you’re thinking. You think the true objective of this is to make myself as firm as possible for my June date with the Farmer. You couldn’t be more wrong. It is way, WAY too late for that. There’s only so much you can do to combat the effects of having 21 lbs. of babies in two convenient installments (I’ll let you do the division). No, I’m exercising to make myself as exhausted as possible. Too exhausted to entertain ridiculous notions of free-range farmer love.
It’s good timing, too, because the Boston Marathon is in less than a week. Not that I run it or anything, but I get so inspired by the Kenyans kicking everyone’s ass every year that I take up running with a vengeance the very next day. It never fails. Then, three to five weeks later, when it becomes clear I’m not cut out for sprinting even sprintable distances, I stop running just as abruptly as I started.
Last year, I took it upon myself to train for this inevitable surge of physical activity so I don’t end up hurting myself. As motivation, I would pretend I was the lone Mexican in a pack of Kenyans, my short little legs working double-time to keep up with their gazelle-like strides. Everyone loves a good underdog story, especially me. So far, I’m up to Part A of Step 3: Put running shoes on feet. I hope to have my feet on actual pavement by Friday. And my bloated corpse floating down the Charles in time for Monday’s marathon coverage.
Step 5: Get a Life