thursdays are generally my day off during the week from that suicide gateway i call “work.”
listing in numerical order (because that’s what i do) i will break down what happens on my glorious thursday off:
1. wake up at 8:30 am. this is sleeping in to me, seeing as how i normally get up at 4:50 am to hit the gym. the dog is sitting right next to my face. i didn’t realize that i ordered a tossed salad for breakfast, poochie.
2. i try to throw in a load of laundry out back before i run out for a bit. i am in my robe and naked underneath, because, well, that’s just what people do. the dog is outside and there is one hell of a drool rein hanging from his jowl. he is excited to see me come outside, i am trying to dance around him to avoid him using my clean robe as a napkin. in between ninja-like dance moves, i look down to realize that my robe has opened in the front. happy thursday neighbors, my vagina says “hello.“
3. i meet up with a friend at the gym. she’s a personal trainer and naturally has no mercy on me. i am sweating, huffing and puffing and she asks why i am having so much trouble just trying to tie my shoes.
4. i have to run to target to pick up a new pair of work out pants. why is it when i enter that store with one thing in mind, i leave the store with at least $65 worth of goods? nope. didn’t need socks or underwear. but i bought them anyway.
5. i come home for a minute, grab some old clothes and i was off to plato’s closet. i was in need of some shorts. i go in to the dressing room with a pair of size “ones.” i can’t get those little fuckers over my thighs. hmm…i know squats are doing wonders for my glutes, but if i can’t fit in to normal clothing i am going to scream. i return to the rack to upgrade to the next size. i spot a cute pair of shorts and then look at the tag. rocawear. great. ghetto booty shorts. i bring myself to actually try them on just to see if they fit. and they do. i don’t know if i should start rapping “gangster’s paradise” or cry. i choose to leave the shorts in the fitting room because i am too ashamed to carry them out of the fitting room and put them back on the rack.
6. i decide to do a little grocery shopping. i was hungry at the time. bad idea. who needs two kinds of peanut butter, two types of granola, two different kinds of milk and two different kinds of high fiber bars? i guess it’s better than buying a russian and a taiwanese hooker. i can only imagine the language barriers.
7. i tried to do a little studying out of my personal training book. when i realize that i can’t find my hi-lighter, i lose the passion to study. i haven’t studied in so long, i almost forgot how to do it. and then i realized that i almost forgot how to read.
8. i open one of my milk choices in the fridge. i bought lactose-free milk and almond milk. i didn’t know that almonds had teats that produced milk for baby almonds, but what the hell. it was effing delish. those almonds definitely know how to lactate.
