So I think it’s time to up the ante on my need for sexy attention. I think it’s time to lay a challenge before myself. So I lost 80 pounds, so what. I think I found 10 of them on Thanksgiving, but I’m not done with the transformation of this girl just yet. I think it’s time to take this game to the next level.
Monday I’m starting a new challenge called “Couch to 5K”. My best friend had to go and tell me about it. She wasn’t really fat, but I guess she was what some would call a chunky monkey and last year she walked it off until she turned herself into a hot mama. She even goes jogging these days so now she’s all “you can do it” and she’s the poster girl for “no pain, no gain…” Truthfully I’d rather a magic pill or a genie to grant me the wish of a Playboy bunny body, but let’s get real, I’m not gonna make it to Barbie size and nobody’s gonna pop out of a bottle and turn me into the Supermodel that dwells within so I’m gonna get back in the saddle and take this horse for one more ride.
I need a crazy goal to keep me focused. Something totally out of the ordinary, so I have decided that I wanna get just sexy enough to do one of those “boudoir sessions”. I wanna do my own Marilyn Monroe in the sheets photo shoot.
I’ve already got a boy toy who is dying to photograph me, as is. He loves my eyes, so that’s a start… now I just have to find a way to love my thighs! I’m thinking Couch to 5k could totally accomplish that!
Now that I’m much older than the first time I tortured myself trying to morph into someone I’m not, I’ve come to accept that I wasn’t meant to be some skinny little rail. I’ve got curves, and I’m gonna keep ’em, but that doesn’t mean I can’t end up as some stunning pin-up!
So now that I’ve put it out there in the bloggosphere I have no choice but to make it happen. I’m thinking once I’ve done this photo shoot I might just knock my husband’s socks clean off his feet. And if he doesn’t notice me, well, maybe I will just finally see for myself that I’m everything I need to be. Maybe I will finally be exactly what I want to be, and if he’s still not happy with me, well maybe I will stop making excuses not to let him leave, or let him go, whatever…
Maybe I don’t really need to have an affair to prove to myself that I am desired. I think the offers I’ve had recently might be enough to really show me that if I’m dying to do the bang bang boogie there are takers ready to stand in line, but the truth is, I want something more.
They say “treat her like a queen, she’ll treat you like a king. Treat her like a game, she’ll show you how it’s played.” I’m thinking it’s time to run the 5k, and then I’m gonna break out the hooker heels and ante up…