To quit: Chutney or CrossFit?

Let’s not get into this whole manufactured conversation about how I’ve “been-so-busy-doing [insert thing(s) I have not really been doing here].” I have been fabulous and fabulously busy, but I can’t show you an enviable got-done list to prove it. There was the time I went to the gym. At least six times in 20 days, and this does not even take into account the nine times in 2013 that I have showed up to Cream City CrossFit to humiliate myself alongside — like lying on the floor in a puddle of sweat and “I can’t do this anymore!” — a bunch of 20-year-old CrossFit athletes. They all wear makeup and tattoos and are in badass shape. Also they are nice.

You know how complicated this can make things: Your inferiority + their niceness + their great makeup=bitter mom blogger.

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I get chatty at 14:25.

Then there was the time I took three pieces of artwork to the framing gallery to get framed. Another time I wrote a press release one long Sunday afternoon. Ben Affleck won his second Oscar. I wrote a page or three of brochures. My husband went to D.C. twice and California once. I spent a day at the State Capitol.

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Reason no. 312 why I’ve been blogging less: “The Michael Jackson Experience.”

So I’ve been making mostly pancakes with sugar, chocolate, maple syrup and real butter for the kids. Plus bacon. Sorry, paleo. It’s you.

But I used to be a quitter. Giving up on things before they got too hard or too boring, or something else captured my fleeting fancy. So, Chutney Challenged readers, I will not quit you. But CrossFit? Maybe.

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