At around 10:30 my boyfriend took me to his gym. While I didn’t go inside because I was too anxious, even though there were only about 10 people in there. I stayed in the car and listened to a good 90s grunge mix for a while and he worked out looking all smexy.
He asked the people working there how much it would be for a membership so I could work out with him and it’s incredibly cheap so the next time he goes, which will probably be Thursday, I’ll be getting myself a membership… If I don’t have a panic attack. Cross your fingers for me!
After that, we had some dinner (I had an entire bowl of freaking chili – which has since been ammunition for anything disagreeable my boyfriend does or says – and he had half of the leftover pizza). Then we ran for about 20 minutes. A lot of panting was going on, so that was fun.
When we came back, we showered and worked on a bit of music and refueling. I’ve had about 4 beers today, so that’s… awesome. Boyfriend is concerned, rightly so. But he’s pointed out that he prefers me drinking beer over hard liquor. “A step in the right direction,” he says.
Now he’s asleep and I’m updating. Well, I guess I’m done updating. Right… Well, until next time! I’m gonna finish this beer and wake up in about 3 hours for work. Have I mentioned what I do? I’m a baker/decorator at a donut shop. Tomorrow is a baking day, which means my arms will hate me more than usual!
Goodnight, or good morning, or good… whatever to you all!
PS: Sorry for any grammar mistakes.