If that title got Destiny’s Child stuck in your head, awesome: that was the point.
If it didn’t, you should be embarrassed, because that is one of my favorite songs to rock out to. It’s also the theme of this post: Independent Women. As a woman who has a loyal, loving, stead-fast boyfriend living 0.81 miles down the road, (door-to-door, I Googled it) and a roommate who has been my best friend for more than 10 years, I get used to doing everything with a companion: grocery shopping, watching TV, making dinner, running errands, even studying.
Except going to the gym. Emily, said roommate and best friend, will not go to the gym with me. Period. Ever. And Rick….goes when I really ask but isn’t exactly Mark Wahlburg. (That man’s home gym is bigger than Towson’s.) I usually end up sweating alone, so it’s fitting that the gym is where this all began. Continue reading