I’m typing really slow right now. I feel like my arms are gonna fall off.

There’s this painful cool workout challenge where you train for 6 weeks until it culminates in you being able to do 100 pushups consecutively. And since I’m apparently stronger than people starting the workout (which is a total lie, my neighbors can vouch for my screaming in agony once I reached pushup 15) I’m lucky enough to start on week three where I’m supposed to do a max of 17. 17?! Really?!

I’m a terribly lazy person. And if there’s anything that running track for 10 years has taught me is that I despise physical activity. Don’t get me wrong, I mos def have the capacity to do crazy workouts, lifting, running type things. It’s just that I would rather be surfing the internet or watching a movie or eating. But, the moral of the story is, if I don’t wanna get chewed up and spit out in LaLa-Land in a year, I damn well better look the part. Oh come on, don’t tell me the guy with the bigger chest won’t get chosen over the scrawny ex-athlete?!

*cue Lady GaGa playlist as I start abs*

…who am I kidding. Anyone who works out to a Lady GaGa playlist is in for a rude awakening when they move to LA.