I go to rehearsal for 2 hours and since Brian, Mary Ellen and I are in The Messiah together, we go straight to Game Night from there. I usually miss dinner and show up starving and pig out on junk. Not good.
Other than once again eating my weight in shortbread, Sunday was good. I had an excellent 3-hour conversation with a new friend, Rachel. She’s been around a bit on this blog and is the newest addition to our Game Night Family.
Rachel is a delightful and interesting person who works at an assisted living facility and loves musical theater. I convinced her to join the chorus for the upcoming production of “The Messiah” and it’s fun to have another friend participating in it. I’m glad that I got to know her better last night for several reasons:
1. She confided things that she doesn’t usually talk about and told me that it is because she knew that I would never make a judgement about it. That is a really nice thing to know about myself.
2. It was very cool to hear about the inner workings of her job. .She regaled me with the most fascinating tale about how a disgruntled senior resident tried to run her over with her Jazzy chair this week. (Bwaaa ha ha ha. I’m sorry, but the imagery is pretty priceless on that one)
Of course, I plowed through a quarter of a box of Pecan Sandies while we chatted and ended up feeling like suckasuckaSUCK because of it.
I worked my ass off at the gym today. Michelle told me that her birthday gift from Me, Karen and Brigdy is to run a 5 k the week of her birthday. I think this goal is awesome and something I was working towards anyway. SO. I have until JUNE to run three miles.
I have found that I love getting up a good sweat and pounding my guts out on the treadmill. I freaking LOVE my new IPOD. It helps my work out a LOT. My neighbor works at my gym and told me that she saw me running yesterday.
“You should have said, HI!”
“Well, I didn’t want to bother you. You looked really focused and pissed off.”
Not the worlds best compliment, but it’s true. I take all my inner rage at things I can’t control in my life and just pound the crap out of the exercise equipment. You would be surprised at how just how much rage and anger dwells deep inside affable, funny me. Sometimes so much of it pours out of my body that I start shaking and can barely talk. It shocks even me and has been pretty detrimental to me health-wise. It has to go somewhere, right? Since I’m unwilling to subject people to it, and the whole “I hate God” thing is getting old, it makes sense that I should at least get a firm, toned rear end out of it all, right?????
Bitter, flabby, Hag…
Pleasant, toned, Babe…
Bitter, flabby, Hag…
Pleasant, toned, Babe.
Yeah. I’ll go with the latter, thanks.