(Alternate title: Three Years is Too Long Between BodyAttack Classes)
We now have Internet!
Actually, we've had it for about a week, but NOW it's actually hooked up to our computer, which, apparently, is kind of the point.
Rogers and Bell reps have spent waaaay too much time at my house, due to the every-square-inch-drywalled-ness of it, and, despite having people living here (in squalor, I might add -- more on that later) for the last 10 years, had a heck of a time plugging me into the information age.
But first: Welcome back to Ottawa, me!
First order of business, of course, was to go back to GoodLife and demand to be paid for my shenanigans again. There's a process that I have to follow, involving submitting another video, with $100 (yay! I knew I didn't throw out all that extra Mo Money for a reason!)... but I need to decide between Jam (dance, dance, dance! Get down with your funky self, you white girl, you!) and Attack (evil aerobics nightmare-type workout, in which I used to do jump lunges and high kicks with ease, smiling, and barely sweating), since I don't have the mental capacity to do both right now (as evidenced by rambling blog posts, for example).
So far, I've gone to one Attack class. Three years, two babies, and ... well, that's all that needs to be said about that. Let's just say there was more effort expended than I had in reserve. Despite being very sleep-deprived since the progeny arrived, I can't help but wonder how on earth I could sleep at night doing that to innocent class participants for fun and profit. In short, I LOVED IT. I still need to attend a Jam class to make my final decision, but woo! What a rush!
But of course, the masses can sway me with a vote.
Um, go ahead, vote.
I'll be sitting here on this nice ice pack.