Today is the tenth consecutive day that I’ve gone to the gym. As my asshole Foursquare app keenly reminded me when I checked in on day one, I hadn’t been to a gym since November of 2010, but even then I only went a handful of times before giving up.

I was boasting about my new physical fitness EXPERTISE and someone asked me what diet I was on because obviously since I’m going to the gym I must be on a diet and trying to GET SKINNY instead of maybe just trying to be a little healthier.

So this is the diet I’m on right now:

• Maybe don’t drink ALL the beers.
• Maybe don’t order the WORST thing for you on the menu when the second worst sounds good, too.
• Maybe half a carton of ice cream is NOT an acceptable nightcap.
• Maybe just eat a fucking a salad for lunch to make up for 23 years of not eating salads, ok?

There. It’s called the Being Cheryl diet, patent pending. That’ll be $49.99.

Act fast and I’ll throw in the three step Being Cheryl workout plan:

• Cardio, part 1: Run on the eliptical for 30 minutes at a pace that keeps the sweat flowing freely into your eyes and your face an attractive shade of tomato while your calves audibly cry out in rebellion.
• Spend 10-20 minutes fiddling aimlessly with the various weight machines while you try to catch your breath.
• Cardio, part 2: Sit on the stationary bike and pedal for as long as you feel like (typically about three and a half minutes) and check Twitter.

P.S. Foursquare redeemed itself today: