1. What’s wrong with you?
The holiday season just ended. You’re most likely broke. That overcooked turkey leg is still refusing to fully digest through your intestines. And you’re hung-over twenty-four seven, and that’s only half because of the eggnog; it’s predominately because Aunt Karen kept harassing you on why you’re not married, or have kids, or a stable job, or a functioning toaster. And there’s not a chance in hell you’re happy because of this back-handed “deal” the gym is offering to shame us lazy pieces of shit back in here.
So, what gives? This is no place for joy. Turn that smile upside down, or leave.
2. This is a wily attempt to mock us, isn’t it?
Here’s the thing. You’re clearly fit, gorgeous even. You did it! Congratulations, but that’s it. Why are you still here? This is the equivalent of winning an Emmy and then showing up with it in your hand every year. Yes, I may be crawling on the treadmill, but at least I know when it’s time to leave a party.
And I just bet your Instagram page is sprinkled with inspirational quotes that I will favorite and then never reread or apply to my life in any way whatsoever. Or maybe it’s chock-full of those vegetables that my doctor keeps begging I integrate into my diet before “my organs concave and I inevitably lose consciousness.” But this isn’t about me; this is clearly about your deep-seated insecurities. But don’t worry; I’m here to help.
3. Do you listen to a continuous loop of EDM to keep yourself going?
I’m more of a Disney fanatic myself. Hercules. Little Mermaid. I need music that surrounds teens with wildly unrealistic goals like changing species or becoming a literal God to power through this half-mile without my heart giving out. But you, you don’t need any of that, do you? No, your playlist is just a medley of pots and pans smashing against the floor for white noise. Of course, it is. You require optimal focus lest all your memorized Paleo recipes break your stride.
4. Are you devoid of all feelings except joy?
It makes sense. Anyone would develop an inflated sense of self-importance if they knew that they’d be everyone’s first pick when society collapses or the aliens quit their procrastinating and just do it. That has to be it. No other person would smile at the gym.
I wonder what it’s like to never have experienced an ounce of sadness, or anxiety, like I’m feeling trying to curl this yellow ten-pound dumbbell. You probably eat the yellow ones alongside your whole-wheat egg and açaí protein shake you sick fuck. I think everyone here agrees with me that you're the worst. Quite frankly, I hate you.
5. In conclusion, I have one last question for you.
Can I have your number?