the post with the skinny.

As part of my plan for self-improvement for 2013, I decided to join a gym. I joined the cheapest one I could find, which also happened to be the one with a workout schedule that would work best with my work schedule. I’ve been going to a few workout classes for the past couple weeks. I go to Zumba, which most people are familiar with. I look a little silly because I don’t know the dances (and I can’t move my butt like they do), but I get through it. I also go to a class called Body Mix – a mix between P90X, Insanity, and Military Boot Camp…yeah. It’s a struggle. They’re also starting Yogalates this week, which I plan to attend.

Honestly, I’m not really sure how to work out. I see all these things on Pinterest about different exercises to do, but when it comes to weights…what? No idea what I’m doing. I joined the gym for three reasons 1) I have time. I need to get out of the house because I’m starting to fail at life. 2) I want a flat stomach. Yeah, I’m skinny, but it would be cool to sit down and not get rolls (or stomach sweat. It’s a problem.). 3) Working out improves your memory, and mine sucks. So win-win.

I tried to get on a fancy workout machine the other day, and I guess I wasn’t going fast enough because it kept pausing and telling me to resume workout. I guess I’ll just stick to the classes, but the struggle is real, y’all.

-- tiffanykhyla.

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the post with the sandwich.

I never thought that after spending fourteen years in grade school (pre-school and kindergarten included) and four years at university (Go Dawgs!) that I would end up in an entry-level position (no undergrad degree required) with my parents and little sister as roommates. Don't get me wrong, I love my job (despite my throbbing feet after every shift) and my family, but ending up with a job where my college degree is irrelevant is not ideal for any college graduate (though not uncommon nowadays).

While I was working the other day, someone definitely put me in my place and, admittedly, made me feel a little crappy about myself. I work front desk at a hotel. Like I said, I love my job, and I've always wanted to own a hotel, so I'm taking baby steps and doing my time at the bottom. Anyway, this man came up to the front desk. He had a meeting with someone in our sales department. When the person he was meeting came to the front, he looked at me while he was walking away, started laughing, and said "Go make me a sandwich." Umm...excuse me? I am not your maid, your wife, your kid, your anything. This was the first time I ever felt degraded while working in my current position, and probably not the last. But now I just try to laugh at the situation. He probably shouldn't trust me to make his sandwich anyway..

-- tiffanykhyla.

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