I did Pilates again at the dance studio. And yeah, it hurt. There is no part of me that is not sore. The instructor managed to find (and torture) every muscle that some how managed to escape last night's PiYo class. The girl in the banana suit is my good friend Maggie. Together, we are a banana split. She owns the dance studio where the pilates went down and therefore can shoulder some of the blame for the fact that I can't walk in a straight line right now. A case of respondeat superior if you ask me. She and I met in college and instantly clicked. Our odd (but awesome) senses of humor are completely in sync.
After class, I met Charlie for Mexican. Let's just say I ate enough to make me feel like I should immediately call Jenny Craig and sign up for a weight watchers support group. The upside is that I am feeling guilty when I over eat as opposed to being completely apathetic. Down side, I have yet to change my ways and just stop when I am full. I am off to digest in the fetal position. Goodnight!
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