Sex and The One Horse Town

Last week, I started a "program". I'm not talking a twelve stepper or anything. I had just decided that now that I have been smoke free for over three months, I was going to have a closer look at my overall health. Below are some of my notes to self.

Dark chocolate is not a food group. I know...BUMMER, right? But the truth is that no matter how many antioxidants are present, one cannot justify replacing leafy greens with Dove squares for lunch.

Exercise should require the use of cross trainers and dumbells. Suffering through a conversation with my ex is probably not considered aerobic activity in spite of the fact that my heart rate escalates. Since I no longer clean my own house or mow my own yard, fat burning activity has been limited to running and hiding from my children.

Vegetables are good for you and should be consumed on a daily basis. I'm not sure if my apathy toward vegetables stems from the fact that as a child, I was forced to eat canned asparagus (just a whole bunch of bad) or that every single vegetable, no matter how well washed, still seems to taste like dirt. And yes, I have tasted dirt, smartypants.

Sleep. Must have it. The experts say 8 hours is the minimum required to keep the body a lean, mean, metabolism machine. Who gets eight hours, though? I haven't had eight unbroken, unmedicated hours since before my children were born. I'm hoping to exercise myself into a coma to solve this issue.

Sex. Hmmm. Apparently, this is an ingredient in a healthy life, too. The one caveat according to the experts, is that it seems to be beneficial only within the confines of a loving, monogamous relationship. I have a problem with these "experts". Most of my friends are married and they tell me that their sex life looks more like tumbleweeds in a ghost town than a tropical rainforest. So what does a single woman do? Does she throw out societal expectations and live La Vida Loca or does she turn her back on temptation and convince herself that chastity is indeed a virtue?

Since the thought of commitment causes me to have to breathe deeply into a paper bag, I have decided postpone the sex discussion with self and instead, focus on exercise, vegetables and sleep. I am determined. Very determined. I am figuring (no pun intended) that between work hours, exercise, the kids and eight full hours of sleep, there won't be a nanosecond available to ponder the fact that I am currently living like a nun.

My parents thoughtfully decided to name me Mary Elizabeth. I don't think it is an accident that "Sister" fits so well in front of it.