Every 6-8 weeks I change my routine at the gym. It’s important to work different areas of your body and it also helps to combat the excruciating boredom that is inherent in exercising. I design my workouts so that I put forth the absolute minimal amount of effort. I barely break a sweat. I just want to be healthy and eat an occasional Hostess Ho-Ho without penalty. I’ve never cared much about body building or any of that crap.

The unfortunate byproduct of a new routine is a whole new set of aches and pains. The remedy for that is a massage from the delightful Kelly. It use to be the delightful Jenna, but she unceremoniously dumped me a few months ago. Kelly isn’t quite as effective a masseuse as Jenna was, but she makes up for it in cuteness. Think that doesn’t count? Well, then, you don’t understand the psyche of men. Especially married men.

Can you imagine being a masseuse? Lord. You’re locked in a room with someone who, although is in the process of being pampered, spends an hour complaining (especially the men, according to Kelly), it looks exhausting as hell and god forbid you get someone who has hygiene issues. From a client’s standpoint, I have to say that it takes an incredible leap of faith to remove all your clothes for a complete stranger with whom you might or might not have chemistry with. It took me a while to become comfortable doing it, but I’m happy to report that I’ve gotten past my initial hesitation. Yea, right there. That’s where I hurt the most.

Last year I developed a passing interest in Buddhism. I just attended a class on meditation and Buddhist philosophy. It was beautiful! I was raised Catholic and it seems to me that Buddhist philosophy is the antithesis of what I was spoon fed in parochial school. The Catholics pretty much knocked the spirituality right out of me. It all seemed to be a bit dictatorial. They’re obsessed with punishment and guilt. They beat you down in order to build you back up into what they need you to be. I was constantly being told that I was a sinner and wasn’t worthy of God’s love and I have to ask for forgiveness. But I was just a little kid! I had no idea what they were talking about! I stole a Hot Wheels from Topps once. Is that what they meant? And the church is absolutely terrified of sex. Buncha assholes. Scaring me like that.

I don’t pretend to know anything about Buddhism, but there’s a spiritual kindness and peacefulness that’s new to me. Guess what, everybody? All your troubles come from yourself. There’s no devil tempting you. You did it. Fortunately, all the answers come from the same source as the problems: yourself. The only person you should confess to is you. I love that. Christianity shouts: “YOU NEED US. WITHOUT US, YOU’LL BURN IN HELL. Oh, and by the way, GIVE US SOME MONEY!” Buddhism gently whispers in your ear: “You need you. Look within.” I think I might attend another class.