No one said it would be easy…

[I promise to never quote Sheryl Crow again.]

I’m trying to “tone up.” I’m no longer trying to lose significant amounts of weight. So sometimes I wonder why I still have to give things up.

I went to happy hour with my coworkers, and then we headed down to my ‘hood for a free concert. I had to walk Bailey, so I ran home and was headed back to meet up with them…when my shoes broke. My beloved Jack Rogers, which lasted three seasons. I was closer to meeting them then home, so I started ducking into stores looking for cheap flip flops to buy. By the time I’d ducked into a few stores, the concert was over and my friends were headed for a different neighborhood. 

I had three choices:

1. Hobble over on my broken shoe and go with them.

2. Go home, change shoes, hustle to go meet up with them and either have one drink and be cranky or too many drinks and be hungover for my session with Joel tomorrow.

3. Chalk it up to a sucky night, and go home and snuggle with Bailey and order food and take a bath and read.

I grumpily chose 3…because sometimes you have to sacrifice what you want right now for what you want in the long run. For me, that’s more money and flat abs…so I stayed away from more beer, and my takeout was still less than I would have spent on a few drinks and a cab. 

I toyed with ordering Thai, or something else less-than-nutritious, but I ultimately settled an old, mostly healthy standby.

I ordered sushi, obviously:

Counting. Down. The. Days. Until. Chicago. 71.

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