Weighing In On Success

Like most people with poor self-esteem and body image issues, I believe that all my life's problems will be solved if I lose 5 pounds. I know that when I can finally fit into those size 28 7 For All Mankind jeans I've been holding onto for years, I will suddenly find the love of my life, do remarkably well in school, get offered an incredible job opportunity, and somehow inherit millions of dollars.

To make it in life, you need to be one of three things:

1.) Exceptionally attractive
2.) Exceptionally brilliant
3.) Exceptionally good at faking both 1 and 2

My goal of course is to be really really good at number 3. I'm excellent at bullshitting which is why I am so good at pretending to be really smart. It got me into Johns Hopkins where I continued to bullshit my way onto the Dean's List, so I'm pretty confident in my abilities in that regard. As for faking being attractive, well, that's why God invented makeup. To complete this visage however, I need to tone my body as well, and this is where I begin to have issues.

I remember the exact day when I came to the conclusion that I was genetically pre-disposed to have "curvy" (the nice way of putting it) hips, thighs, and butt. It was a gloomy November afternoon at the shopping mall. I was in seventh grade and shopping with my mother when I realized that I could only fit into size 6 jeans. I was fine with the size, but not fine with the fact that just six months earlier in April I was a size 0. I cursed my jeans, cursed my genes, cursed puberty, and cursed my thighs in frustration. It's only gone downhill since.

Now what's the way for average people who aren't blessed with lightening fast metabolisms or thin genes to get a great body?

The Gym.

That place where people willingly put themselves on torture devices, run for hours without actually going anywhere, and pay money for people to lord over them while they're sweating balls and to yell at them to go faster. That place is a madhouse. I hate that place.

I'm really not good at sticking to a routine, and gyms are all about routines. There's the circuit training, the interval training, the on days and off days for strength training, and on top of that I'm supposed to keep a strict diet and eat a certain amount at a certain time depending on when I'm doing the aforementioned training activities? Are you mad?

The gym is an impossible Rubik's Cube. At least for me. But despite all that nonsense, I defied my own expectations and went to the gym today. I was feeling pretty good about myself and my iron will until about 20 minutes after I got there when I was kicked out because the gym was closing. What gym closes at 3 p.m.? Exactly. The universe is pretty much telling me to just cut my losses and do what I please.

So will I give up on trying to achieve my goal? Maybe. But I'm starting to get really hellbent on improving my life and inheriting money, so maybe I'll just go to the gym occasionally and take up some kind of eating disorder. KIDDING (almost).