I woke up this morning with that guilty feeling you sometimes have when you were really drunk the night before and can't quite remember what you've done, you just know it was BAD.
Except I wasn't drunk last night... What was it?
Then it hit me, like a steel toe-capped boot in the face.
BOOTCAMP.
What have I done?
I text The Boss.
"Do we actually have to do this fitness thing?"
"Giving up already are you?" he asks.
"I just thought I would text you to see what your thoughts were..." I say
"Man up and do it!" he replies.
"Good, that was a test!" I lie.
DAMMIT.
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