Guys, have I been kidding myself?

Recently, I started a diet bet. I joined a web site, put 25 bucks on the line, and promised that I would lose 4% of my weight in 28 days. Who needs the appropriate motivation of being healthier, feeling better, and having more energy when I can make some dough off of this endeavor? Take a walk to enjoy the sounds of nature and to get a little fresh air? Pfft. Pass. Take a walk to ensure that I get to split the pot with the other 4% loser winners? Yup. Lacing up my sneaks right now. And ZOOM we go!

So with all of this exciting physical activity I have got myself a raging blister from the aforementioned sneaks. DAMN YOU NEW BALANCE OR WHATEVER OFF BRAND SNEAKER I COULD AFFORD FOUR YEARS AGO! BOO. Honestly, I think it was the perfect storm of blister creation and not the sneaker because: 1. I've never gotten a blister before from this pair. (read: New balance, if you want to be friends and sponsor me, I won't say no. I'm like a sure thing.) 2. It has been a hot minute since I've worn backed shoes (let's hear it for FLIP FLOPS!). 3. My sock slid down while I was walking at a jaunty pace on the treadmill hamster wheel for humans thus creating direct shoe on skin contact. 4. I tied my laces extra super tight because I have an abnormal fear of spraining my ankle and being one of those people that falls off of the treadmill and goes shooting backwards into the row of elliptical machines resulting in my losing an arm, eye, or boob. And I need all of those. I'm quite literally attached to all of my parts - see what I did there?? I'm attached. Get it? Moving on...

See, I told you. Perfect blistery storm.

I set off on a walk the next day in the great outdoors thinking, "these thick, fluffy socks are going to protect my ankle blister and will not result in anymore pain." And off I went with my sidekick, Bella. I possibly even tra la la la'd a few times in between gasping for air. I was about half way through my walk when the blister came to life and started sounding every alarm it knew how. If it had access to an air horn, my neighbors would have come out of their homes (in their bare feet nonetheless while pretending to shiver) to see what craziness was disturbing the peace. I started hobbling the .8 miles home, dragging my leg behind me. Every. Step. Was. Torture. I could feel my sock get sticky from what I can only assume was me bleeding out from some randomly placed artery (ok. ok. maybe not. I'm not a doctor. geez. gawd. way to get all literal.). I cursed myself for not teaching Bella how to mush like an Alaskan Husky and pull me to safety. I contemplated taking off my shoes and walking home in just socks, but reconsidered when I realized I was afraid of becoming one of THOSE people. So I did what any human has to do in a situation like this, I muscled through it. Painfully.

Step. 

By. 

Step. 

ooooo baby! gonna get to you girrrrrrl! Don't lie. Your mind went there.

This whole situation has got me thinking. You know how certain situations arise and you say to yourself, "I could run if I was being chased!" or "He only got grazed by a bullet! He could have gotten up and ran down the bad guy. (obviously I'm watching NCIS... DUH)" or "I could have totally taken that guy." or "I would be able to defend myself all stranger danger style if someone ever tried to mug or murder me."

Well I have something to say to that.

 Nope.

NOPE.

NOPE.

You are a liar, liar pants on fire.

Eek.

Is it getting hot in here?

You big liar face.

We all have been watching way too many Iron Man, Transformer, Captain America, Thor, Batman, Green Lantern (um. ok. so I watched Green Lantern and actually liked it. critics be damned. so sue me. don't do that. I'm poor.) movies and need to calm the F down.

WE, my dear friends, are NOT superheroes. Even a little bit. I mean, sure, there are men and women out there who have trained and trained to be able to tolerate a significant amount of pain (I'm looking at you Marines, Seals, Army, Navy, Green Berets) but they are the exception -NOT THE RULE.

So the lesson for today is this: Blisters suck. I'm a little dramatic. Yum! Men in uniform! I might have to hire a body guard since I just put on the internet that I'm a big pus pus. Money on the line is the only way to get me to exercise.

Forever Yours,

The Unemployed Diva.

P.S. Finally joined twitter. Follow me @kunemployeddiva it'll make my heart sing.