Well, I can’t put it off any longer. You know the feeling when there’s something you have to do and you REEEAAALLLYYYY don’t want to do it? Yeah…that’s me…right now. It’s been looming for several days now. And, the clock is running down. In about twenty-five minutes, I have to meet my friend at the gym and…work out. Yes, that’s right. Work out. Ugh… Why do I hate working out so much? Why can’t something that’s SUPPOSEDLY SOOOOO good for you be easier to do? Those italicized, capital letters were meant to convey sarcasm. So, if you didn’t get that, I would ask you to please return and reread that sentence, placing the appropriate amount of whiny derision on those particular words. It’s okay…I’ll wait for you……………………. Okay, I can tell by all those periods that you carried out that assignment swimmingly. So, let’s see…where was…oh right…I hate exercise. I HATE it. I hate every part of it. I hate the beginning part, where you think, “Oh God, I’m just starting and I feel like I’m gonna die.” I also hate the middle part, which involves an enormous amount of sweating (well, if I put any effort into it, that is, which is what exercise enthusiasts say you’re supposed to do and something they seem to LOVE). I super-hate that part. Actually, I DO like the end part, though, where I exit the gym with that superior, “Oh yeah, I’m totally into fitness” look. Side note: I don’t exhibit that look at any time while I’m actually IN the gym, of course. Because those people really ARE totally into fitness. Then, of course, upon returning home, a shower is in order and that’s a rather pleasant because it feels good to wash off all that disgusting sweat and come out smelling all soapy. So, I guess it’s mainly the beginning and the middle part – the actual exercise – that I detest. I can hear you judging me, by the way.