I'm a broken man

That's right. Completely broken. I've given in. Sold out to the man. Believed what all the commercials tell me.

And no, this has nothing to do with Valentine's Day. (You're all cynics.) I did not have a "hot date" (no surprise there); I did not have a lukewarm date (no surprise there either). I did not sit at home crying (but only because I chose not to watch The Dirty Dozen -- bonus points if you get that reference to an unnamed movie).

I've joined a gym.

I know. I've completely sold out. (Well almost -- I'm not going to join any aerobics classes, so I haven't turned into an '80s Yuppie. No Jane Fonda flashbacks for me.) But I've ponied up my money, signed on the dotted line, and even scheduled an appointment with a trainer (but just so I don't stupidly hurt myself on the weight equipment).

So, let the taunting begin.