16 Apr 2008 ›  7:15pm

Does anyone else get cripplingly embarrassed when attempting to do a workout tape in their apartment? Even when I’m home alone with the door locked, the shades drawn and the volume of Sweatin To The Oldies (just kidding) turned down till it’s barely a whisper, I still get the idiot shivers thinking that somehow, someone can see or hear me (hear me? what does that even mean?) Anyway, it’s probably just another crystal clear example of the extreme nature of my self obsession—ya think? Yes, yes, I know, I know—therapy, therapy, therapy. But in the meantime please, dear brain—would you kindly shut up so I can fulfill my simple dream of acquiring Buns Of (semi) Steel?