The Morning Workout
Sunday – After consuming a day’s worth of calories in alcohol Saturday night, you promise yourself that this is the week you get in shape. Morning workouts, that’s the way to go. All the successful people do it. You set your alarm for 5:30am and lay out some workout clothes.
Monday – Nope, there’s no way in hell you’re getting out of bed at 5:30 in the morning. You hit the snooze for the next hour and half, bypassing not only any chance of a morning workout, but of you looking like a presentable human being. No time to shower, eat breakfast, or iron your dress pants that have been sitting in a corner since last Friday. Solid start to the week.
Sunday – You’re going to make a killer green power smoothie tomorrow after your workout. Kale is still in, right? It’s all about the salads this week. You’ll be a lean, mean fighting machine by St. Patrick’s Day.
Monday – You eat whatever scraps you can find at your desk. That bag of stale tortilla chips you left on your desk open last Friday? That’ll do for breakfast. By the time 10:30am hits, you’re starving and all life is depleting from you. You cave and take an 11:00am lunch, drive to the nearest Chipotle, and eat a burrito until you hate yourself. You could’ve shaved 1400 calories off if you would’ve just gone with a bowl, but you convinced yourself that it’s vitally important to carb-load early on in the week. Then you hate yourself more because you remember you took lunch at 11, and it’ll only be noon until you get back.
Sunday – You’re going to follow up with clients, send emails out, and tackle that project you’ve successfully been avoiding for the last week. This will be the week that you got your shit together.
Monday – You spend the rest of your afternoon surfing the web trying to avoid doing any real work while still looking like you’re busy. At one point, your screensaver comes on, despite the fact that you’ve been in front of your computer for the last 15 minutes. You look around to see if anyone noticed. You’re in the clear…this time.
Sunday – You promise yourself that you’re going to cut back on your drinking. No more pounding margaritas and passing out on your bed at 9pm.
Monday – By three o’clock, you’re so over this day and week that you send out an email to the coworkers you actually like— and even the ones you don’t — asking if anyone is up for happy hour. At this point, you don’t even care who you’re drinking with, as long you’re drinking.