I’m alive, but don’t ask my shoulders.

They’ll give a different answer. [fatigued shoulders, party of 2.]

It breaks my little heart when people on twitter openly discuss my lack of blogging [in a loving and friendly way]. And all I have to say to that is, trust me. I miss blogging far more than you miss me. Because you know what I do instead of blogging?

I sleep.

Do you know why I sleep?

Because instead of my old sleeping time (12a-7a), now I’m in bed at 9p. Which used to be the blogging hours. [Must like the witching hour, just less demonic.]

We are down to 6 more boot camps. Meaning in a short week and a half, the AnnieBlogs you have grown to love will be back in action.

In other news.

There is no other news.

We like our boot camp instructor [Kristen is her given name]. I mean, we like her as much as you can like someone who giggles while torturing and worries when our hairs aren’t soaked with sweat.

But you know me. If there is one category in which I over-achieve, it is sweating. So that’s never a concern for me.

Also. I didn’t go to class on Monday. I don’t want to lie to you and say I’ve had perfect attendance, because I haven’t. But it was due to a complete lack of sleep and a good friend being in labor all night long and the fact that we had one of those weekends where I laughed for hours and then when my alarm clock went off at 4:30am I immediately started crying, I said to my roomie, “I can’t do it.”

She said, “uh, ok. Don’t.”

So I didn’t.

[She handles my drama well.]

On the upside, I’m definitely better at push-ups than I used to be. [Read: I can do ten and not feel like my soul is being lowered to the pits of despair every time.]

So, in lieu of having anything actual to say, I’ll just say that I hopped on here to make sure you knew I was alive and I fully regret what boot camp has done to my blog life. You deserve better, my friends. Much better.

Lyndsay is doing some HILARIOUS recaps of our boot camp days. That’ll be fun for you to read. Imagine me, in every story, rolling my eyes, possibly wanting to cry, and being the slowest one in the group and you’ll have a pretty good idea of how it has been going.

The last shall be first?

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