I hate Michelle Obama's arms. And her legs.

This is not because I care about the propriety of the First Lady going sleeveless or wearing shorts -- as far as I'm concerned, if a 45-year-old woman is buff enough to show the world, I'm all in favor of her doing so. Quite honestly, she was one of the bright spots in the otherwise drab display at the State of the Union address (the other being her husband, of course). And, seriously, if I had those gams, I'd be trading in my pedal-pushers, too.

Sally Owen, who lives in North Carolina, holds down a fulltime job and also manages a household that...read more

Nor am I jealous. She so totally and completely outclasses me that it would be silly to pick on just one body part to be jealous of. Honestly -- she has a law degree from Harvard, a great career, two beautiful kids and a brilliant fashion sense. I'm not even trying to keep up. (I don't even really care about my lack of muscle tone -- I find that wearing sleeves and pants pretty much resolves the batwing/cellulite issue.)

No, what bothers me about her buff bod is how she gets it. Specifically, the fact that she gets up at 5:30 a.m. to work out. This tidbit, revealed in numerous women's magazines, and detailed in articles like "How to Get Michelle Obama's Arms: The Workout Plan" really irritates me.

As a connoisseur of the self-improvement genre, I can tell you that this is the universal advice to any anyone who wants to accomplish anything. Want to write a novel? Meditate? Find some "me" time? Apparently the only part of the day appropriate for such activities is 5 a.m. to 7 a.m.

This advice grates on me because I could never in a million years actually follow it. If I am any place except bed at 5 a.m., it is due to one of two reasons: I have to catch a plane or my house is on fire.

Even my children know better than to wake me. My sister-in-law remarked once how refreshing it was to hear a child call out "Daddy!" in the night. She thought it was a sign that her brother was a great dad. I knew the truth: They call him because he will come.

I think darkness is God's little way of telling you you should be asleep. And if for some reason I am up at such a hideous hour, the only exercise I'll be doing is coffee-cup curls.

Even more annoying than this ubiquitous advice is the attitude of those sad souls who actually do follow it. When someone says, "I've been up since 5 a.m.," what they're really saying is, "I am a morally superior human being." And you, by inference, are a lazy slob.

Why is this? Some Ben Franklin work ethic? (Never mind that old Ben was a dissolute scoundrel.) I had a friend who would come to work every morning and report how much work she'd done in her garden before sun-up. (I had gotten dressed and driven in - that seemed like enough to me.)

I was secretly delighted when, on two different occasions, the people she sold her house bulldozed the garden to put in a pool.

Email has made this even worse. The time-stamp promotes escalating one-upmanship. A business email stamped "Sunday, 5:30 a.m." might as well have as its subject line, "Nanna nanna boo boo, I'm working harder than you are."

The problem, of course, is that all those magazines are right. If you have any combination of family or job, you don't have many options. Lunchtime is for lunching. If you tried a meditation all-nighter, your mantra would have to be, "Don't fall asleep, don't fall asleep." Evenings? Well, there's that eating thing again.

So that leaves me flabby, stressed out and struggling to read a novel, let alone write one.

On the plus side, I am well-rested.

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