When life gets busy, there are few things that start to go by the wayside almost immediately. This could mean ceasing to cook your meals at home. It could mean you start claiming headaches and suddenly “have a lot of work to do” right around 10 p.m. every night when your significant other goes to grab your goods. It could also mean that you begin the habit of completely ignoring the maintenance of your own personal health. These things don’t necessarily occur in that order, but to each their own.
As many of you know, I made the huge mistake of starting law school last summer, and many things in my life have suffered thanks to this choice. I’m poorer than ever thanks to student loans and no steady income besides the peanuts I make writing satirical columns for a groundbreaking blog with hundreds of thousands of readers and fans. I’ve eaten a number one from Chick-fil-a more times in the past 8 months than I have made a decent meal at home. Last but not least, I don’t think I’ve consistently worked out and exercised in close to a year. If law school does one thing, it destroys all motivation to live and eradicates the desire to better oneself physically and mentally. The only exercise I’ve done lately is carry a lot of very heavy leather-bound books from my car to the library. In short, I haven’t done shit to stay in shape in quite some time.
Well turns out, once you hit your mid-20s, something curious starts to happen. No, I don’t mean to your waistline, I mean to your calendar. Weddings, people. I’m talking nuptials. Holy matrimony. People getting hitched. This also means that you might start getting called up from the minors, because where there’s a groom, there’s a bride, and where there’s a bride…well, there are probably about 7 and a half bridesmaids from her sorority in college. That’s right, I’m gonna be in a wedding.
It’s time I get back on the grind. I’m talking P-90X, OrangeTheory, pure barre, maybe some Richard Simmons. I’m looking at a low-carb, green smoothie, “complaining about my diet on Twitter” kind of thing. Maybe I’ll even try that weird pear diet that worked so well for Rick Ross. It’s going to be 2 long months of spending way too much money at Whole Foods on weird snacks with chia seeds and kale. I’ve already blown some cheese buying 3 months of pure barre. That doesn’t even take into account the tanning membership I need to purchase before someone mistakes me for a female Jim Gaffigan. Turns out, bridesmaid dresses run on the smaller size and no one told me, so I’ve got to somehow fit my adult body into a dress that probably would have fit me as a junior in high school when I worked out for about 4 hours a day and still ate two packages of Oreos every single day at lunch.
This wedding is going to be the biggest and most important day in my friend’s life. She has to remember vows and try not to cry too much during the ceremony lest she ruin her airbrushed makeup. Then she has to sit and eat in front of everyone and also try not to get shithoused at the open bar. My job? Well, my job is just to help her use the bathroom in a huge dress and be the most attractive bridesmaid in the wedding photos. Time to pull on the trusty old lululemon tights and go lift, tone, and burn off my weekend vodka sodas in a room of 40-something trophy wives with 5-carat diamond rings on their hands with speakers blaring the Biebs. Prayers welcome..
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