So.
One night recently…
I remembered (a special thanks goes out a particularly fierce tummy growl) I had gone to Trader Joe’s and bought a box of Jo Jo’s.
FOR EATING.
Unrelated, never go shopping hungry.
*eyes go wild*
Aaaanywho. The box sat in my pantry… unopened for 3 days.
THREE. DAYS.
WHO DOES THAT?!!
In a moment of remembering (rare) I remembered said box-o-Jo Jo’s.
I made haste to the pantry.
And whilst opening the box…
I cut my finger on the cookie box.
CURSES!
I should have taken that as a sign. But then I was pretty sure I earned a comfort snack.
And herein lies The Irony:
I went to boot camp (a.k.a self-inflicted PUNISHMENT) the next morning.
At said boot camp there is a great deal of sweating and an inordinate number of push-ups.
P.S. I do man push-ups, FYI. Toes. Not knees.
*flexes*
Aaaaanywho.
Cut on finger + sweat + push-ups = Late Night Cookie Karma
The moral of the story…
Oh heck, let’s just do one of those “choose your path” type of endings…
- Don’t get into the cookies, or…
- Don’t exercise.
In either case — No pain… NO BRAIN.
And now, not only does my finger hurt, but the rest of my body does too.
Next time? I’m going for a cupcake.
Or a carrot.
No… a cupcake.
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