Leftovers

I joined a gym this year. It was supposed to be a body-altering decision, but apparently you actually have to go more than once a week. More than once a month, even!

I love regaling my friends with my gym anecdotes because it usually involves me dropping something while on the treadmill and the absurd chaos that follows whilst I try to do retrievals with grace. (Grace and I are not friends, btdubs. Smooth, Grace and Style have evaded me for years.)

The last time I went to the gym was a little scarring, however. Ever try really hard to engage someone in conversation that doesn't really want you to talk to them anymore?

It's probably because you have eggs and spinach left over from dinner in your teeth. Check yourself before you wreck yourself.  Word to the wise, friends.