We had a plan.
Gym bags by the door. Water bottles filled. The noble intention of movement pencilled in for after work.
But then the sofa looked inviting. And the thought of a “quick refreshing nap” crept in like a cunning little idea. Just twenty minutes, we said. Just a recharge. Nothing serious.
Two hours later, we woke up bleary-eyed, limbs heavy, the room dimmer than before. Not quite sure where we were in the day. Definitely not at the gym.
Now we’re talking about takeaway, not treadmills. Chatting about what kind of beer to pick up instead of whether to do intervals or a long slow stretch on the mat. There’s a quiet agreement between us. No mention of the gym. We are both gracefully, strategically, ignoring it.
We’ve let the monkey mind steer the ship tonight. The part of us that likes naps and noodles more than effort and structure. And honestly, I’m not even mad.
There’s something funny and human about it. We try to keep it all together. Health, routine, responsibility. But now and then it slips. Or we let it slip. Sometimes what we need isn’t discipline. Sometimes it’s just a pause, a laugh, and a decent curry.
Maybe tomorrow we’ll do better. Maybe not. But for now, I’m just glad we’re in it together.
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