Interview with Shirt today about becoming a shirt. Suck in that gut and…okay…another coat of polish on the boots but that’s it…let’s not be anal about this.

UPDATE: No First Shirt slot until medical stuff straightened out and gut gets a more permanent redux. One of the things I hate about getting back in shape…I slim from out in, the gut is always the last to shrink and/or define.

I wonder if guys should use Preparation H for under their eyes in situations like these because I didn’t sleep much last night. No, no, that would just be wrong on so many levels.

I should erase that…nah…give someone a snicker this morning.

I’m gift-wrapping challenged. As in, everytime I touch wrapping paper and tape, something ugly and unattractive appears. No, seriously, I failed cut and paste in kindergarten ‘k? Don’t even think of asking me to wrap presents. Beautiful Wife handles that. So…how does Beautiful Wife get her presents wrapped for her? God BLESS the folks who make those lovely bags made of heavy wrapping paper. Present goes in bottom, a little crepe paper bunched on top and you have a semi-sort-of wrapped present that looks just fine under the tree.

Passed my PT test last week with a 75 which is considered “good.” And good is good. Because of funky leg thing had to use the bike for the aerobics portion and failed it miserably the first time because my heart rate never broke 133 which is my targe heart rate. I’ve never been so proud of a failure in my life. Did fine when one of the certified trainers was able to crank up the tension on it. Heart rate never broke 128 on that one…hehehe. And yeah, I could have squeezed out a couple more crunches for a higher score there, but let’s save lots of room for improvement next year shall we? We’re not getting younger.

“Body Sculpting” would be less painful if she just chiseled the fat from me instead of making a 10 pound dumbbell feel like it weighs a ton. I’m not complaining…my guns are coming back…not the 18 inchers they were 10 years ago but still…gonna need some tank tops this summer.

Is it just me or does everyone feel a little bit better about everyone they see at the gym?

I refuse to call a gym a Health and Wellness Center just as I refuse to call a Chow Hall an Aerospace Dining Facility. Aren’t the people who started that nonsense retired yet?

Remember the good ol’ days when only Lieutenants reminded you of overly energetic puppies?

Ever have one of those FNG Majors who just came out of AETC and really thinks that we should be trying to actually get some WORK done the week before Christmas? Good news is, the Navy Commander just looks at him funny. Bad news is, the Commander makes me deal with him. “Deal with the Major, Aye sir…can I just stuff him—Carrying on sir, no details as to how I deal with him, Aye.”

How the hell am I ever going to go back to a regular Air Force unit with all this Joint Jargon in my head? Aye this, huah that, semper gumby??? How the hell do you explain semper gumby? That’s a post in itself.

Note to self, you’re rambling, end it.