I had good intentions for my New Year’s resolution. Really good intentions. As a single mom, four years post-divorce, it’s time to get back on the proverbial horse. Call it a horse, a rooster or whatever you choose, but it’s time for me to get on something.
I decided to get back in shape to avoid being alone for the next decade, so I filled out the membership paperwork at a fancy, schmancy fitness club and awaited their response. In the meantime, I was so serious about this resolution, I shopped online and almost bought a 17-hook-and-eye sports bra made of steel. Turns out I’m not only off the hook, there likely won’t be any eyes on me, either. The following arrived in the mail today: