It's been too long, chubbs.

It's been just over a month since my break up, and I'll admit that I've been really shaken by it. No longer though, as I've since taken up that grand ol' sport of boxing. 

Now, I've never been attracted to the sport, but there are a couple of what I seem very sound reasons why I've decide that it's my new obsession:

1) The next time I want to see my ex-boyfriend, not only do I want to be satisfied that I'm in better shape than him, but I want to know that if need be I'll be able to beat the crap out of him as well.

2) My sister and I have a pact. We've promised not to let each other get fat. While I wasn't really getting fat, I had gained about five pounds in the course of the relationship. The parameters of the pact are this: if either of us gets to be a size six or over (we're very short, so a size six really is large for our height) then the other will proceed to verbally abuse the other until we feel bad enough about ourselves to drop the pounds.

We haven't had to resort to our promise yet, we've decided to hope that if it comes to that, we can avoid any psychological damage. But no promises there.