Day 2

This morning I awoke again to the chirping of my cell phone receiving a text.  I jumped up and immediately squinted at the clock.  I was in full panic mode.  Had I overslept again?  Was the Ball Buster already in my driveway as she had been on several occasions before?  That really ticked her off by the way.  No it was only six thirty, I wasn't supposed to be ready until 7.  I put on my glasses and read the text.  All of a sudden I heard Angels singing.  Aretha Franklin's voice was booming loudly in my ear "Freedom, Freedom, Freedom , FREEEEDDDDOOOOMMM".  It was like the sky to heaven had opened and gave me a beautiful glimpse at the pearly gates.  The text read " I have to leave to go to Ft. Lauderdale unexpectedly to help my brother."  Here's the best part "WE CAN'T WORK OUT TODAY"!!!!  I was ecstatic!  Happy does not describe it!
 My jubilation quickly ended with the thought that I had to respond to her text.  If I didn't text fast enough she would call and hear the joy in my voice.  She would surely take it out on me tomorrow. If I sounded too upset about it she would have me do something on my own today.  Think Think Think.  My plan was brilliant.  I texted her back one letter that said "K".  No emotion tied to it.  No bias one way or the other and I had an entire day of freedom ahead of me.
Now I know what most of you are thinking.... I'm only cheating myself....yeah, yeah, yeah--- blah, blah, blah.  But apparently you all are not understanding the depths of my hatred for working out.  I have been going with the Ball Buster for over a month and a half and there has not been one minuscule moment in any way shape or form where I have enjoyed it.  Everyone keeps telling me that I will grow to love it.  That I will feel something will be missing when I don't do it.  That I will literally crave the feeling I get from working out.  I am here to tell you......That Will Never Happen!  I hate it.  I loathe it.  I literally wish it was a human being so that I could wish death upon it. 
Why even bother then?  Well it is all for the glory of standing next to my beautiful sister in her wedding gown knowing that I am not a huge miserable whale.  It doesn't mean I have to enjoy it.  It just means I have to do it.  And as much as I hate the Ball Buster and her evil smirk when I get into the car..... I know I need her.  I need her like a fat kid needs cake and without her I go back to my horrible, sad,  pathetic,- no will power fat  lazy self. 
Tomorrow when she comes to pick me up, I may not manage to smile but at least I will try not to throw imaginary daggers at her forehead when I look over at her on the treadmill. I will try and do my best.
Till Tomorrow!
Teresa