The Crater

I currently have an ingrown hair gone terribly wrong. I know that's TMI for some, but let's face it we've all been there. I blame my husband. That sweet, innocent looking studmuffin I married has inadvertantly caused the beign of my current existence. It hurts when I walk. It makes me squint when I sit down. It's a boil like existence with a smug face and a crooked nose. I am currently cursing it. It's on my underwear line and I think these Hanes just sent up a post-it note in the shape of a flag surrendering to be put in the dirty clothes-FOR GOOD!
This is how it happened. I have a treadmill (I know of no good story that began with that phrase). I, unlike most chunky monkeys, use my treadmill. You could call me the Hitler of treadmill usage. I've lost 30 pounds in a year and a half without adjusting my eating habits, so therefore I worship its grey outer shell as if it sucked the fat cells right off me like a snake shedding its skin. I owe it. I am superstitious towards its magical powers and if I miss my daily 45 minutes with it, I am not well and TERRIFIED that it will abuse me like the gimp in the basement in Pulp Fiction the next time I dare to get on it. With that said, my hunk of burnin' love despises my grey beauty. For that reason, this January brought on some stomach flap grabbing resolutions for him that can not be met without the use of stationary equipment AND he prefers (ie. won't) go alone, so who better to accompany him than me? So, last week brought my treadmilling, per usual, with the added addition of 45 more minutes (thank goodness we only went twice) on the rock and roller/glider thingy. Please refer to the personal trainer closest to you for its official name. With the addition of these extra workouts, my creases became over used. An area that has only seen sunlight twice in my 33 years of life (not counting my stint as a pornstar) is now suffering the insatiable consequences of overusage! So, the next time we meet, I won't be able to look you in the eye and I'll most likely have a limp. Just avert your eyes, offer an ice pack, some neosporin, and a band-aid and you too can learn from this. New Years Resolutions always go awry, if not for you, then for those close to you. Please refrain from making them. Should we start an anti-resolution campaign? My crater says yes. http://www.preventcreaseoverusage.org/ (Don't click on it, I made it up:))