My client printed this out for me and it is too funny…. Thank you Lenore!

 A WOMAN’S WEEK AT THE GYM

If you read this without laughing out loud, there is something wrong with you.
This is dedicated to everyone who ever attempted to get into a regular workout
routine.

Dear Diary,

For my birthday this year, my daughter (the dear) purchased a week of personal
training at the local health club for me.

Although I am still in great shape since being a high school football cheerleader
43 years ago, I decided i t would be a good idea to go ahead and give it a try.

I called the club and made my reservations with a personal trainer named Belinda,
who identified herself as a 26-year-old aerobics instructor and model for athletic
clothing and swim wear.

My daughter seemed pleased with my enthusiasm to get started! The club encouraged
me to keep a diary to chart my progress.

MONDAY:

Started my day at 6:00 a.m. Tough to get out of bed, but found it was well worth
it when I arrived at the health club to find Belinda waiting for me. She is
something of a Greek goddess — with blonde hair, dancing eyes and a dazzling
white smile. Woo Hoo!! Belinda gave me a tour and showed me the machines. I
enjoyed watching the skillful way in which she conducted her aerobics class after
my workout today. Very inspiring! Belinda was encouraging as I did my sit-ups,
although my gut was already aching from holding it in the whole time she was
around. This is going to be a FANTASTIC week!

TUESDAY:

I drank a whole pot of coffee, but I finally made it out the door.

Belinda made me lie on my back and push a heavy iron bar into the air then she put
weights on it! My legs were a little wobbly on the treadmill, but I made the full
mile. Belinda’s rewarding smile made it all worthwhile. I feel GREAT! It’s a whole
new life for me.

WEDNESDAY :

The only way I can brush my teeth is by laying the toothbrush on the counter and
moving my mouth back and forth over it. I believe I have a hernia in both
pectorals. Driving was OK as long as I didn’t try to steer or stop. I parked on
top of a GEO in the club parking lot.

Belinda was impatient with me, insisting that my screams bothered other club
members. Her voice is a little too perky for early in the morning and when she
scolds, she gets this na sally whine that is VERY annoying. My chest hurt when I
got on the treadmill, so Belinda put me on the stair monster. Why the Hell would
anyone invent a machine to simulate an activity rendered obsolete by elevators?
Belinda told me it would help me get in shap e and enjoy life. She said some other
shit too.

THURSDAY:

Belinda was waiting for me with her vampire-like teeth exposed as her thin, cruel
lips were pulled back in a full snarl. I couldn’t help being a half an hour late,
it took me that long to tie my shoes.

Belinda took me to work out with dumbbells. When she was not looking, I ran and
hid in the restroom. She sent another skinny bitch to find me .

Then, as punishment, she put me on the rowing machine — which I sank.

FRIDAY:

I hate that bitch Belinda more than any human being has ever hated any other human
being in the history of the world. Stupid, skinny, anemic, anorexic little
cheerleader. If there was a part of my body I could move without unbearable pain,
I would beat her with it.

Belinda wanted me to work on my triceps. I don’t have any triceps! And if you
don’t want dents in the floor, don’t hand me the damned barbells or anything that
weighs more than a sandwich. The treadmill flung me off and I landed on a health
and nutrition teacher. Why couldn’t it have been someone softer, like the drama
coach or the choir director?

SATURDAY:

Belinda left a message on my answering machine in her g rating, shrilly voice
wondering why I did not show up today. Just hearing her made me want to smash the
machine with my planner. However, I lacked the strength to even use the TV remote
and ended up catching eleven straight hours of the Weather Channel.

SUNDAY:

I’m having the Church van pick me up for services today so I can go and thank GOD
that this week is over. I will also pray that next year my daughter (the little
shit) will choose a gift for me that is fun — like a root canal or a
hysterectomy.

I still say if God had wanted me to bend over, he would have sprinkled the floor
with diamonds!!!
  .
 

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