If I were endlessly rich, and a fitness model

I'd have a maid
I'd have a personal trainer
I'd have a cook
I'd have a tutor, for the kids
I'd have a chauffeur
I'd have a stylist
a pedicurist
a manicurist
a masseuse
a jet
a Swiss bank account

I'd be fat, bored, and pampered. Wouldn't I be a brat? Mostly, all I want is a clean house, time to hang out with my kids, more hours in the day, and someone to highlight my hair.

I worked out this morning with my skinny little sister, who happens to have a bun in the oven. That's the smallest little bun you ever did see.
I got a week-long free pass to her gym, since I can't afford my own, and we've been working out every day. Whenever I do this, I get to thinking I am really a very firm body builder. I begin imagining myself in sparkly bikinis, and a fake tan. Ms.Universe, or something. You can imagine how disappointing the showering experience becomes under those misconceptions.
I'd like to get a little closer to that fantasy, as swimsuit season is right around the corner. My boyfriend has those kind of muscles that stand out. It's very annoying. He's got the abdominal muscles that you can see, and arms that look permanently flexed. I have to stand next to him, and this is bad for my self esteem. It's alright during the winter, when I'm wearing layers. Summertime dressing is going to clothe me in humility, though, if I don't eat less.
SO, I am applying at the YMCA for a poor person's membership. If they agree that I am indeed poor, and I do in fact need a workout....they just may let me in.

Meanwhile, I am eating protein and doing situps. No Easter chocolate for me.

What are your plans for Easter?
Good Friday to you.