Then, I go to the YMCA, and don't you know, I am in luck! The weight machines are totally empty, and it appears I won't have to wait my turn for anything in my circuit. Fantastical! (Yes, my new favorite word.) I do them all with sets, in record time, and after getting my info in the computer, I head to the elliptical. I think, "I'll take it easy, and only do 30 minutes." I had arranged a meeting for afterwards, and didn't want to be a hot, sweaty mess for the meeting. (Long story short, I was, since I am more competitive than I really should be, and went over an hour on cardio, which technically equates to enough sweat in my bra to ring out liquid and then I get cold if in it too long. And we all know how that goes... It's screwy, that's all I can say.) So, the machines were packed, and I found a machine far from the lifters that I like to oogle, and darn it if the only one available had something that was sticking to my shoes, and every time I stepped with my right foot, it made this sticky sound, and felt like I was going to have a nervous breakdown from the sensory of it all by the end of the first half of my workout. I am a basket case. A basket case that is desperate to take care of my body. But at what cost, I wonder????!!!????
Next, I make it home, shower, and my dog goes ape at something while I am in the shower. And without fail, my brain starts to process the situation. And without any real reason, my initial thought was that I must get the conditioner out of my hair, or else, I might be like a greased pig sliding around the bathroom floor with an intruder. Then, I wanted to keep my eyes open while I washed it out, but that was taking longer, and I was not sure if being swift was more imperative than keeping watch for the potential danger that I was in. I heroically make it through the shower, and when I go outside to check things out, I find that the Jehovah's witnesses are walking up the street, but they left little fliers about an upcoming event, and don't ya' know? The invited me! I wonder, do they do the whole Baptist style casserole pot luck yummy smorgasbord thing? I love me some casserole! And to get out of cooking and cleaning for a night? I'm soooo in. I know my father disowned me for converting to be Catholic and all, but I wonder if my mom might consider dropping me like a bad habit if she knew I was considering going-- merely for the fact that I need a night out. And, I don't want to do dishes this weekend. And I wonder at what point the Catholic church will realize I am really not right, and that they might consider pausing the whole conclave bit to work on the "Erin Infiltrate" bit? I hope not. the church is in shambles right now, and I don't think it's because of me, but you just never know, seeing as not ONLY did the witness people come a knockin', but some window cleaners threw a plastic bag with rocks in my drive way advertising their services and it made me so mad I wanted to drink. See, the plastic bags had rocks in them so that they would not fly around the 'hood. However, I must say, it just junked up the hood more, and I am pissy about my living arrangements, namely, the fact that I live here. And I don't have a basement. And that my house the perfect size for our family, however, the builders insisted on placing a bathroom inside my kitchen, and my smoke detectors go off
For the record, a fireman actually came to my house to turn the alarm off last weekend. No joke. That's how screwed up this house is. I think the builder was high when he made my house. And I must have been on something to have bought it. I wish I knew what it was seeing as I clearly am in need of some medical assistance lately ;o)