The Month of Living Deliberately

In honor of my commitment to better physical and financial health, rather than "The Year of Living Dangerously," I'll be participating in, "The Month of Living Deliberately." 

Oxford American Dictionary defines "deliberate" as: 1) Done on purpose; intentional. 2) Careful and unhurried. 

I hereby proclaim that for the following 30 days I will DELIBERATELY:

1) NOT eat ANY sweets. (Except for my boyfriend's birthday dinner. Really, people, I'm only human.)
2) NOT spend ANY money on CLOTHES!!! And, yes, that includes SHOES and JEWELRY. (Those of you who know me can pick yourselves up off the ground. Lying on the floor with your eyes bulging out of your heads while speaking in tongues is highly undignified.)
3) EXERCISE at least 30 minutes EVERY DAY! And by EVERY DAY I mean at least three times a week! (Death, or at least an uncomfortable splinter or bug bite, to all naysayers.)

My month-long goals are:
1) To lose five pounds.
2) To save $500.
3) To tone muscles I didn't know I had.

My four-month goals are: 
(Why four months? Because in four months I'll be on a cruise. In the Caribbean. In a bikini. OMFG.)
1) To lose twelve pounds.
2) To save $2000.
3) To tone muscles I didn't know I had.

I began this treacherous countdown on Saturday, and am happy to report: "So far, so good." Well, except for the exercising part. That began tonight when I signed up at a local gym that is freakishly close to where I live. (Whose crazy idea was it to build a gym within walking distance of my house? OFF WITH THEIR HEADS!) My excuses not to exercise are flying faster than incomprehensible syllables from the mouth of Sarah Palin. (Yep, that fast.) However, I WILL PREVAIL! (Chances are slightly higher than winning every Powerball in every state for the rest of my life.)

I promise to post before the end of the month to let you know how I'm doing. Unless I fail miserably, in which case, I'll either a) lie like I did when I was five and stole bubble gum from Spanky's Corner Store (sorry, Mom and Dad, but I can no longer keep this evil secret to myself), or b) slither away into slimy obscurity like Octomom, Bernie Madoff, and [hopefully, someday soon...] Snooki. 

Anyone care to come along for the ride?
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