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Desultoriness

I am totally stressed out and having to devote a lot of energy to maintaining a constant state of low-grade panic, therefore I have very little attention to spare to devote to coming up with coherent posts. I'm just going to post some random thoughts until the page looks kinda full and then I will go back to freaking out about something or other full time.

There is a 2 lb. package of raw chicken in the fridge in my office. Well, not in my actual office, the fridge in the kitchen down the hall from my office. This disturbs me on a number of levels.

I ironed before coming to work this morning. I never iron anything, and one of the main factors that keeps me from looking for a new job is that in my current job I rarely wear anything that needs to be ironed. For some reason this morning, I decided that I needed to wear a new skirt I got last week that had to be ironed before I could wear it. I think it was a stress reaction. When I put the skirt on it still had the tags on it so I pulled them out over the waistband so I would remember to cut them off. Obviously I came to work with the tags still on the skirt and still hanging out over the waistband in back.

Last night in yoga class we were instructed to "blossom our buttocks." I'm not entirely clear on how one would accomplish that feat. We were also told that we were being supported by the same force that supports the stars and the planets. To me, that means that we live in a vacuum, but maybe physics is different for the crazy yoga lady.

I am very frightening at 5 am. I'm considering taking a picture of myself tomorrow morning and selling it as the basis for a fright mask for Halloween. No kidding people, not something you want to meet in a dark alley.

I'm going to the optometrist tonight after work and to the gynecologist first thing tomorrow morning. I'm really focusing on not getting these two things confused.

I know I write about the gym a lot, but I spend a lot of time there trying to keep my butt from collapsing onto the back of my thighs. When I leave every morning, the guy at the desk asks me if I had a good workout. This really annoys me for no good reason that I can explain.

Comments (10)

Maybe you should try Zoot's Pretend-Talking-On-Cell-Phone idea so he can't talk to you on your way out.

Two pounds of raw chicken in your office fridge? That might be ok if you worked at a meat shop- that's just plain bizarre...

You should tell that guy, "Why, yes - I did have a good workout. In fact, I blossomed my buttocks. Incidentally, have you ever met my pretend celebrity boyfriend, Clive Owen?"

I would be scared by 2 pounds of raw poultry in my office as well.

Also, Super Happy Perky Energy Smoothie Gym guy needs to learn to not talk to people. Not everyone is as thrilled to be awake and at the gym at that hour as he is, you know?

"blossom our buttocks?" Hold on a sec.. let me flip through some porn and I'll get back to you....

"Blossom our buttocks" Hmmmm - nope that is not an image I can even begin to conjure up. Sounds painful though. I wonder if the guy at the gym would know.

I never ever want to visualize a blossoming butt again. EVER. Never ever ever.
Thanks

I think you should try going to the gym with your 5 am face on and then see if the annoying gym guy talks to you THEN!

I thought the whole reason for yoga was so your butt did not blossom? Is it just me confused???? *grin*

I think the whole workout comment irks you because who has a truly good work out? It's not like icecream or steak. There aren't good flavors and bad flavors. It almost always sucks. Somedays suck less then others, and maybe that's what he means. Did today's workout not suck so much?

My idea of a good workout would be not feeling all tired and like I got the snot beat out of me, yet still getting the benefits of a hard workout. I wish there was a pill or something. That would be a good workout.

The gym is something you do because you have to, not because you enjoy it (at least not on the planet I live on. The people who ask if you enjoyed your workout simple have something very, very wrong with them.

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So the Fish Said...

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