The gym saga continues, part three, and part THE END of a story that's lasted too long for its own good.

"Honey, I'm kind of upset with you," said Brian quietly. I'd just told him I spent $125 signing up for a gym membership I wasn't sure I wanted.

"I can get the money back if I decide to cancel!" I said.

"Honey," Brian replied, "you should have called me. Gym memberships are down right now with the economy. They want people to sign up. You could've gotten them down to no enrollment fee."

Hmm, I thought. That sounded right. I'd read that somewhere. I should have thought of that. I also should have remembered the $0 enrollment fee on their stinking website.

"And are you even going to use that membership?" Brian asked.

"Well, I don't know," I replied. "I guess I have a month to figure it out... right?'

"Canceling that membership is going to be like pulling teeth."

"Nuh-uh," I argued. "I asked the guy if it would be a pain to cancel and he said no."

"Yeah, he said that..."

I was quiet.

Brian said, "Honey, it's up to you. If you're going to use that membership, fine. But I'm going to be really upset if you don't go. And I really wish you would have called me. You could have paid less." This was coming from a guy who went to his (free, work-paid) gym every day without fail. I wasn't sure I would be as... faithful.

I told Brian I would think about it. I hung up the phone. I was already having buyer's remorse.

With taxes and extra fees, I figured my gym membership would be costing me close to forty dollars a month, not thirty. And even if I went five days a week - which I wouldn't, unless I was entering a bikini contest in an alternate universe - it would be $2 per visit. And AFTER each visit, I would have to go home and... walk the dog. Walking is free.

And I was already feeling the crushing guilt of each day I wouldn't be able to go for one reason or another. And each month would mean thirty bucks charged to my credit card, just like that, whether I liked it or not.

Gah! How come this is such an easy decision for other people?! I just kept thinking, You can exercise for free.......

So I canceled, the very next day. I walked in and filled out a cancellation form and when the guy asked me why, I told him I hadn't planned on signing up for a membership. "You didn't mean to do it?" he asked sarcastically. "Oops, I'm signing up," he said in a high-pitched voice, imitating me as I put my signature on the paper.

"Yup," I shrugged. "You guys are good salesmen."

He watched me fill out the rest of the form. I asked, "Will there be any problems getting the credit?"

"No," he answered. "It's within the three-day cancellation period, so you should be fine. You're not the first person who's done this."

I didn't argue that I should have had a month to cancel. I was just glad I was canceling now.

The end of the story is this: I still might join a gym. I don't know. But I won't pay an enrollment fee and I won't get sucked into signing my life away. It's just that when I think about spending thirty bucks a month, I'd rather walk my dog - for free - and spend $30 on shopping.

Maybe I'm just weird. Or stingy. Maybe Brian's gotten his frugal fingers into my brain.