Next Time we try Ghiradelli Squares

I could write a post every Saturday morning and it would say essentially the same thing every single time: how wonderful Saturday mornings are, how especially lovely this particular one was, all the ways in which I loved that one of my roommates works on the weekends and the other has a penchant for sleeping until noon. Of all the things I enjoy about my roommates, those qualities are at the top of the list.

On this particular Saturday, I'm a bit sore after a killer workout yesterday. I say 'killer work-out' but all that really means is that I ventured beyond the elliptical machine in a rare but painful foray into the world of shoulder presses and bicep curls.

I joined my gym back in November and I love love love it. It's situated directly on my way home from work, which gives me little excuse not to stop by for at least a brief affair with the equipment there. I was originally lured in because my apartment complex pays for more than half of the monthly fee, meaning it only costs me 20 bucks a month to torture myself. They have a ladies only section, so that I can avoid embarrassing myself in front of sweaty guys with nice arms. Granted, it also means that unless I make some serious lifestyle changes, the romantic comedy of my life probably won't start at the gym.

I was glad I pushed myself, however, because last night my friend Stacey had a bonfire at her house and not only does she make a fantastic pizza dip, but she also provided all the fixins' for gourmet s'mores. This is not your typical campfire fare, my friend. We're talking Reese's cups, caramel and chocolate, oreos (or 'smoreos...).

I'm not humble enough to pretend like it wasn't my idea- one I had previously brought to fruition myself on a camping trip with my family several years ago- and I'm happy to say that the gospel of Gourmet S'mores was well received amongst my friends. My friend Kerry took a bite and said "Oh my gosh, I think my life just changed." Actually it came out more like "Ho mgusgh, fink mlufust ed" but I'm pretty sure that's what she was getting at.

I'm off to mediate a battle between self-disciple and sloth- to work out or to not work out and instead watch episodes of Chuck online while casually reading my Rachael Ray magazines, that is the question.