Monday, July 11, 2011

the right to bare arms (m)

My friend, V, is in great shape. She works out daily. I met her for lunch the other day and she was wearing a long white, sleeveless linen tunic with black slacks. She looked like something out of the Eileen Fisher catalogue.

Me? I was sweating bullets in my blazer with a sleeveless tank top underneath.

Went home, took off my jacket and flopped my arms in the mirror. I looked like Totie Fields.

I took my rubber bands out and started exercising my arms.

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