Shameful..with hot hair

There are times when I really let myself down. This evening after work I was sprawled on the couch watching chewing gum for the eyes on the TV when I decided I needed to get a little more active, what with the office job and all. It is a curse. I have worked out that I am in a sitting position for nigh on 10 hours a day. My fingers are getting a wonderful workout what with all the typing, (and they do look fabulous in that odd yoga muscle way) as is my neck from craning over the cubicle wall trying to see what's happening. That is nothing short of disgraceful- and there is only so much hold-in knickers can do. Those of you that are regular readers will be all too aware of my 2006 goal of Running Around The Lake Faster Than Those Age Sixty And Up. I fear I may have to set myself a similar goal this year. There is Lake Ontario down the road but I would need an entire management team to work out the logistics of that one so instead I have decided to keep up with my walking around Old Whitby and mix it up with a bit of jogging for the laugh. This evening saw my first excursion. While I was stomping around the town scaring children with my red, sweaty face, heavy breathing and complete lack of fashion sense I trundled past the local hair saloooon. Obviously it was a sign so I jogged on in completely incapable of stopping seeing as my muscles were running on autopilot..or were starting to sieze up, one or the other. Anyway as I was thundering in I noticed a sign reading, "2006 Canadian Salon of the Year", (2006 was obviously the year for bettering oneself) and as I came to an abrupt stop at the counter I was almost blinded by the glare from receptionist wan's hair. Never have I seen salon staff with such fabulous, glowing, amazing hair. To hell with print advertising, they should just plant the staff on the street and hand out sunglasses. Seeing as the staff were oh-so-beautiful and the big sign was still saying "2006 Canadian Salon of the Year" I figured I was at the right place. There I stood leaning on the counter like a war veteran would a crutch, sweating over the dry flower arrangement and wheezing out my name. I had almost regained my composure until I saw the price list. There'll be no eating in this house for a few weeks I tell you. Which is good as I need to get to work fast on looking 'fabulous' for my appointment.