I am in desperate need of a detox to reset my taste buds and sloth-like body. I've been craving carbs, sugar, and MSG like nobody's business. It's no wonder after the past week. I started my day off with a dirty chai latte. Not paleo at all, but a better choice than yesterday's pizza, peanut butter cup, Chinese food fest.
Long weekends are dangerous as I tend to see them as an invitation to behave badly. This, coupled with Valentine's Day and volleyball Wednesday, has really set me off my game. And I found myself wandering out of Windsor Court in the wee hours last week. As far as benchmarks of poor decisions and sadness, being lost in Windsor Court is almost up there with losing your pocketbook and pregnancy scares. For those of you who are not familiar with Windsor Court, it is an apartment building in Murray Hill, a neighborhood in Manhattan. Windsor Court and its neighbor the Rivergate, are home to recent college graduates as well as the confused residents who remember when they didn't share walls with drunken twenty-somethings returning home from theme parties. Nothing good happens there, but they are perfect places to take down targets born in the nineties. Not sure what I was doing there, and I'm pretty sure I do not want to know. I blame Harding's. It is way too close for comfort to my old apartment.
I may have gone out a few too many times recently, but I have been putting on real clothes. And I fit into my jeans so not all is lost.
|I think I clean up nicely.|
|And by real clothes, I mean ripped jeans and cowboy boots.|
The hotel we're staying at has a gym and I brought my gear. Unfortunately there are no pictures of the gym on the hotel website, but I'm hoping for a treadmill and a full set of weights.