Last night I ate an entire baguette for dinner. With the most delicious french butter I have ever tasted. And a chocolate chip cookie for dessert.
Ok, ok. I also ate some peas, just to get a little green in there. But mostly it was a boulangerie-sponsored repast. And today all I can think about is how soon I can get some steak frites IN TO MAH BELLAH!
Now anyone that’s met my junk-in-the-trunk knows that this might be cause for concern. At least State-side I was running and yoga-ing and gym-ing it up to help tame the J-Lo booty. Here, not so much. So this is where we should all be getting very, very worried about the size of my arse. But have no fear people, I am walking it out!
You see, when you have to walk at least 6 long blocks to get any kind of sustenance, formal exercise and baguette dinners become irrelevant. Take that 6 long blocks pulling a granny cart filled with gallons of milk and jars of pasta sauce, then haul that cart up 2 flights of stairs, and you’ve just elevated your daily commute to Iron-Man training status. And that’s only one of the 2-3 grocery shopping trips I take every week.
Almost everything we purchase has to be lugged home on foot. Husband and I carried our new 42-inch TV 10 blocks because we don’t have a car and didn’t want to pay for delivery.
Then there are days like today, when I walked 10 minutes to the metro, high-stepped it up the escalator, sprinted down one corridor to make the train, only to realize I left my embassy badge at home. Then walked all the way back, took a quick breather, and started out for set number 2.
So rest easy. I think my bum and I are going to be just fine. Now excuse me – there’s a pain au chocolat calling my name.