Damn it all to fucking Hell. My yoga class was canceled tonight. I was so looking forward to it. I only got to the gym four days last week and now this week I'll only be getting there three days.
I totally would have stayed and done cardio (I lifted last night), but I was just wearing a camisole with a shelf bra over my regular bra. There is just no way I can get on the treadmill or God forbid, the elliptical machine, without a sport bra over my regular bra. Stupid boobs.
The Boy I Currently Like (who, since he didn't object when I mentioned it earlier today, shall henceforth be known as Sweet Can) thinks I'm still sick because I was going to the gym instead of resting. So, I'll be resting tonight. And when I say "resting" I mean getting drunk on red wine and watching basketball. I was going to try to make a gingerbread cake to serve at the Thursday Night Football party tomorrow night, but I'll wait and do that after work tomorrow. Then my apartment will smell delicious when everyone gets here.