I am not particularly money or savings conscious so it was a strange new sensation while filling my beloved jeep with gas and upon seeing the total cost I felt a sharp pain in my chest. Holy fuck!
The book selection at stop and shop is horrible! If you don't like romance novels, chick lit or weird touchy feely Chicken soup for the eczema riddled, asthmatic, divorced mom of 3 soul...you are shit out of luck.
I now have two exercise tapes staring at me from beneath their cellophane wrappers in my kitchen. They taunt me when I am cooking dinner, "cmon fat girl crack me open and lets do some kick boxing."
Shut up Billy Blanks! I am busy!
Billy stares back at me with a mix of pity and loathing.
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