Fitness for the Unemployed

It's been a bit since I've last blogged. I've been super busy the first week that I've been back... you know, hanging out with my parents, riding horses, swimming in the pool, unpacking, going to happy hour, and job hunting. Now that I've gotten through that tough transition week, I decided that the week was to begin on a positive note. And that meant working out and getting serious about dieting.

A few months ago I had decided to join Gold's Gym. It was right by my old place, so it was super convenient. I paid the entire year in full because it was a significant savings. And I figured if it was paid for, I'd make myself go.

Fast forward to me being unemployed and moving back to Ramona. Gold's Gym would not refund my money, and the closest Golds Gyms near me are 45 minutes (without traffic) away.

Those of you who know me well know that working out is not on my list of favorite things to do. Now add a 45 minute drive to the mix and see if I'm gonna be going often. No, I don't think so. And since I'm unemployed and on "welfare," buying another gym membership is out of the question.

So, I decided that I need to do some sort of free exercise. Riding horses and swimming is a good start, but my fabulous cousin, Sara, and I decided that hiking was the way to go and decided to hike Mt. Woodson this morning.

I've never hiked Mt. Woodson before, and when I told my sister that I was going to do it she laughed uncontrollably. "Call me when you're done. No, actually, have Mom call me when you're done."

I arrived at Mt. "What the Hell Was I Thinking" this morning at 9 am. My cousin was waiting for me and we began out trek up the mountain. Thankfully there was a breeze and it wasn't too hot.

I have one word to describe the trail : STEEP.

When Sara and I get together, it is usually an occasion of gossip and laughing. However, this time, I was dying all the way up, and we had to stop every few minutes to catch our breath. It was seriously that steep and tough!

Let's just say that we didn't make it all the way.

But we made it a good portion.

We finished a steep bend and rested on some rocks.

"By summer's end, we'll make it all the way to the top!" Sara said.

"Uhhh...." I said, gasping for air.

"We'll laugh at this in a few months," she continued. "It'll get easier! And to sweeten the pot, I'll take you out for drinks the day we make it to the top of the Mountain."

I perked up. Booze.

"For reals?" I said, my heart rate returning to normal.

"Yes!"

"But this means we'll really have to work at this," I said. "We can't expect to gain stamina for this place by hiking once in awhile."

"Let's hike Mt. Woodson once a week. And then another, less steep trail another day of the week."

"Sounds good to me!"

So, Sara and I will be hiking twice a week. Once on Mt. Crazy, and the other on a trail that she says "has hills, but not a continuous steepness."

Housewife University - Apprentice Program

I know of a lot of people who are either thinking about going back to school or are in the process of getting their Master's degrees.

Not one to be outdone by my peers, I have recently enrolled in the prestigious Apprentice Program at Housewife University, pursuing my Masters in Domestic Engineering (MDE).

Housewife U is going great so far. The program allows you to shadow a professional so you can learn first-hand about this profession.

So far, I've gotten a passing score in Dishes 101. My professor, Dr. Mom, showed me how to properly load the dishwasher, and wipe the counter tops clean. I hear that she's the toughest grader out there... so imagine my surprise this morning when I actually got a passing grade.

Tomorrow, I'm taking "Jam Making and Canning 105." Dr. Mom's neighbor has a peach tree, and gave us a bucket full of peaches. Tomorrow's lesson is making jam and canning. This could be useful if I take a liking to the gardening portion of the program.

Bank of the Parental Units

So my parents have offered to pay off all my credit cards, and allow me to pay them back without interest. For those of you have have credit card debt, you know that the interest payments add up over time.

However, this deal required me to fess up about exactly how much was on the credit cards. Not that it's an extraordinary amount, but still, the fact that it's there showed that I spent more than I should have. I told my mom the number, and she said OK.

A bit ago I called my parents, who were on their way to go wine tasting in Temecula, to tell them about a horse I wanted, and my dad said (with his Serbian accent), "No horses. No nothing. You can't buy anything for a few years. By the way, I'm your new money manager. Everything you buy must now go through me. You will live under instruction."

Ohhhhh helllsss nooo.

"So, uh, I guess you talked to Mom," I said.

My fingers are crossed that when they pay off my cards they'll just look at the dollar amount, and not go through the transaction list and see everything I have bought.

I can only imagine that conversation.

The Harsh Reality

Leave it to my mother to give me a slap of reality so early in the morning. This morning I was chatting with her on the phone, and I was telling her about one of my favorite shows, The Real Housewives of New Jersey. In the last episode, one of the housewives, Caroline, had a personal trainer come to her house three times a week to work out with her and her kids.

The conversation took place as we were discussing where we were going to put all my furniture. We were figuring out where we were going to move all the gym equipment if I had to put my furniture in the "gym" aka, my sister's old room.

"Mom, on Real Housewives, Caroline has a trainer come a few times a week. We should totally hire one, too." I said.

"Deana. You're on welfare." she said.

"Unemployment..." I corrected her.

"Do you think that moving here will be like going away to a spa for you? I don't think so. You're broke. And you're going to do chores this summer."

And with that, I was bitch-slapped back into reality.

And no, we're not going to hire a personal trainer. Damn recession.

Weekly Score Card

Jobs Applied to: 7 or 8, I have lost track
Calls Back: 0
Interviews:0

HouseSingle

Housewives are fabulous woman who for one reason or another stay at home (taking care of the house, and children if they have any) while their husbands are at work.

Now that I'm unemployed and staying at home all day, I'm basically a housewife without a husband or kids. I think that makes me a "HouseSingle."

HouseSingles have it made. Usually there are not kids, and you get to stay home. And, you don't have a husband to complain that you didn't go to work. Granted, HouseSingles like myself do have to deal with their parents (or roommates, as I like to refer to them).

But, HouseSingles don't have a husband's income to depend on. No worries, though. Nanny Government has me covered. On I Love Lucy (which conveniently still runs on TV during the day), Ricky Ricardo used to give Lucy an allowance, and now Nanny Government gives me an "allowance." So, it's almost the same thing.

Back in the day, when women didn't work, a woman who was a HouseSingle was referred to as a Spinster. Now, I much prefer the term HouseSingle to spinster. And since I'm beginning to edge closer to thirty without any husband prospects, the term spinster gets scarier and scarier.

Note that I do not own a cat. Well, we have a family cat (her name is Gwen), but she lives in the barn and minds her own business.

Coffee Filters and One Liners

This morning I woke up after a night of hard partying with my Sactown homies (I was out until 11:30, way past my bedtime) in need of coffee. Big time. Mama didn't mess around when it came to drinking her Gin last night.

I grabbed the bag of coffee filters and realized that only a few were left. Shoot, I thought. How many coffee filters do I have left? Will they make it through the week?

Here's the thing. When I had a job, I would drink coffee at the office, and only really brew coffee on the weekends. That damn bag of coffee filters has pulled me through since I lived in my Trinity 'Hood condo with you-know-who. Why, oh why, was that bag going to fail me now! Especially when we were in the home stretch, and so close to the finish line.

I counted them.

And from the looks of things, after Tuesday, I'll be filterless. As in, I'm-not-going-to-go-to-the- store-to-buy-a-bag-of-coffee-filters-when-I'm-moving-on-Saturday, and my parents have a never ending supply at their house.