My thighs are typing.

Thu-thunk. Thu-thunk. Thu-thunk.

That is the sound of my thighs slapping each other.

Because as a member of the female species and ergo an expert multi-tasking maven, I am typing and using the Thighmaster at the same time. This is a fairly tricky maneuver, and of course I look like an idiot. But let's be realistic- everyone looks like an idiot with a Thighmaster wedged between their knees. Even Suzanne Somers looks like an idiot. Especially Suzanne Somers.

I have dusted off the old Thighmaster (or, to be honest, the $10 Thighmaster Knockoff) because just as I'd suspected, I have hit the World's! Biggest! Plateau! So it's me vs. the World's! Biggest! Plateau! and I'm going to win if I have to pull out the Thighmaster to do it.

And when I'm done slapping my thighs together, I'm pulling out the shaker weight. So I will be brushing up on my skills just in case I decide to give up this writerly business and pursue a career in the adult entertainment industry.

Oh, wait. I can't be in the adult entertainment industry, because I am old and flabby. Of course, I'm sure there are some people out there who like "old and flabby," but to paraphrase the movie "Tootsie," "I just don't like the kind of people who like that."

So for now... thu-thunk. Thu-thunk. Thu-thunk.