I have too many gym buddies. For now. Waaaaay too many. I never get to go with my brother. I see my sister-in-law once or twice a week, I wave to my neighbour fortnightly and then there are the old faithfuls my sister and cousin. What this means is because I want THEM all to have a gym buddy and for no one to feel left out, I’m working out some days twice a day. Or just feeling about otherwise.

This is what they mean when they say that thing they say about too much of a good thing. Too many gym buddies was never really something I thought would happen to me. Do you know how many texts it takes to organise anything..!? Talk about problems most people would kill for. Like complaining you have too much cash. A friend of a friend distances himself from his famous and well off family by pronouncing his name differently. Because, you know, he wants to be himself. But pronounced differently. Can you be yourself pronounced differently  I suppose so.

It’s like anything. Too much of a good thing is one of those things that people with lots of good things complain about. A luxury of its own. You can never be too skinny or too rich. They say. Both have been proven otherwise. You see it all the time. Too much of a good thing can be somewhat of a challenge in itself. Too much free time, too much sun, too much rich and delicious food. But it’s not, will I eat today. It’s not, will my family be safe. It’s not even will I have a roof over my head. It’s way beyond that in the needs versus wants list.

So I have lots of gym buddies.

An abundance. A plethora.

Lots.

And it’s a good thing. A very good thing. It’s definitely too much of a good thing.

But as far as too much of a good thing goes, it’s a good one.

And thank goodness Flick moves to Canada this week. Pheeew. Ditched one.