Starbucks Thinks I’m Weird

I got a late start to my workout last night, but it was a great at-home sweat session! I completed 1/2 of Bobbi‘s 20 minute Tuesday workout (weird, but it took me 20 minutes to just do half. Anyone else try this? Am I way off? I blame the altitude.) I then did a 20 min ab workout on the stability ball and some glute work on the mat (donkey kicks w/variations, froggers). Not bad considering I was about to forego the workout, but as soon as Tyler said “Ok, I’m gonna go kill a few aliens before bed,” I knew I could use that time proactively and torch some cals.

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Today’s workout will have to be much more intense after wolfing down this heifer for dins last night:

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We got started on painting the living room last night after those mondo sausages were scarfed. Word of advice: don’t paint in the dark; you’ll miss a ton of spots. We only got one coat on, but I’ll definitely be posting before and after pics. There really is just so. much. brown.

I used the last of my Click
protein powder yesterday (read: SO SAD! It’s hard to find and I can’t afford to order online and have it shipped to Canada! Anyone wanna help me out?!?! I need my Click! πŸ˜‰ ) that said, I actually needed to brew a pot o’ coffee this AM to accompany my oats balls for breaky.

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Good, but not as good as the espresso protein powder! In case you were wondering, I poured the coff coff in a juice glass because I didn’t want to keep making trips back to the kitchen. I’m way too busy watching daytime TV, talking into the internet box, and planning my day. Plus, I rather prefer lukewarm coffee. You should see the look on the Starbucks barista’s face when I order a hot coffee- half filled with iced coffee.

Methinks today is garbage day. Only because there is an obscene amount of banging going on down that weird back-alley where everyone keeps their trash bins. I’m about turn into an old bag lady and run out in my pj’s and give Mr. Garbage man a piece of my mind. Actually, who am I kidding, I’ve been up since 4:30 this morning. Prime blog reading and book reading time. Head and iPhone under the covers/pillow. Obviously. The boyfriend don’t mind, but the dog? She turns into a fury ball of bitchy when her sleep is disrupted. Perhaps she should rethink her attitude and realize she has free reign over my half of the bed, and I’m the one who suffers. Way better than the floor, dawg.

And there ya go.

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