Eight months after quitting my last health club, my wife and I signed up for a new one last night (editor’s note — not the one pictured above).

Great. Now I have no excuse.

I don’t know what I’m thinking. Yes, I should go. Yes, I used to be in shape (many moons back). Yes, I would feel better about all aspects of my life.

On the other hand, it’s just so much easier to lay around.

My friend Vince, who works at Kaiser, sent me a press release today discussing how a new study shows that, while grossly overweight and underweight people live shorter lives, people who are slightly overweight live longer than you stupid, normal people who are in shape.

I wish he would’ve sent me that yesterday before I signed a year-long contract at a health club.

Oh well — we’re paying, so I better go. Tonight. I’m tired of screaming in surprise, then burying my head in my hands (moaning “My God, what happened?”) everytime I see myself getting out of the shower.