So I went to the gym yesterday, thank God because today is yet ANOTHER snow day!!! Hence, the gym is closed. To all my fellow gym rats, I know you feel my pain. Anyhow, what’s worse than not being able to go to the gym, is getting all the way there after you’ve updated your playlist, dropped the kids in childcare, and realize you have NO headphones! I neeeed music to workout. They depend on each other to thrive. When I don’t have music or a friend to talk to, I am forced to people watch, which naturally brings out the worst in me. I become analytical, judgmental, and probably too consumed in trying to figure people out.
My first encounter was with a woman in the locker room. As you read in my last post, I hate this room, but it is the only restroom on the first floor, so I had to use it. Of course I was greeted, once again, by nude women that have more confidence than I could ever dream of having in a lifetime, but the one that really got to me was the one at the sink. I had to wash my hands and there she is, wrapped in a towel from the mid torso, down. Really? Because wrapping the towel around your breasts would be soooo uncomfortable I guess. I’m trying to wash my hands and run for the hills, but then, there’s an exchange of hello’s. Thank God it didn’t go beyond that. One time, when I was getting ready for work at Planet Fitness after a workout, a very earthy woman proceeded to have an entire conversation with me about styling hair, all the while naked. I don’t care if your breasts look like a National Geographic special edition or are the most fabulous implants in the world…I don’t want to look at them and I certainly don’t want to try to carry a conversation with the staring me in the face.
So as I walked upstairs, trying desperately to shake the trauma of what my future breasts will probably evolve into, regardless of how hard I exercise, I spotted a man in a “Superman” shirt. These shirts always remind me of an old Dane Cook standup bit and it always makes me want to test his theory. This guy was insane with the stuff he was doing. He was doing trunk twists, while hanging 5 feet off the ground, and he did them effortlessly. But really? What’s with the shirt? Of all your shirts to choose from you looked at the Superman one and said, “Yea, that’s how I feel today.” It makes me just want to wait for a moment when he’s totally unprepared and punch him as hard as I can, knocking the wind out of him and then start laughing, saying, “Guess you’re not Superman!” Seriously, if you have a second, google Dane Cook and his Superman bit. It’s hilarious and you won’t think I’m as awful as you might at the moment, because in future encounters with douche bags that choose to wear this shirt, you will think the same thing!
The rest of my people watching was pretty normal…nothing notable really because there really wasn’t anyone there. But then a woman came up next to me that never used the machine I was on, so I explained it to her, and conversation evolved into my pregnancy, of course. This woman was very sweet, but she and I and our preferences in pregnancy, childbirth and raising children couldn’t have been more opposite. I know I’m probably the odd man out with some topics, like breast feeding, and at this point in motherhood, I don’t feel the need to defend myself. I don’t breastfeed, I don’t want to, I’m not going to, and that’s all there is to it. Yes, I have tried it and it was terrible experience. Yes I know how great it is for my baby, but you’re not going to change my mind just as I wouldn’t dream of changing your’s in regards to your perspective on it. Then there was the natural childbirth thing. Kudos to you if you’ve done it without drugs and at birthing center. I am, from the bottom of my heart, genuinely amazed, because this gal definitely needs drugs. I also prefer to be in a hospital and I am aware most people don’t need emergency surgeries, but I did with my third or she would have ended up severely brain damaged if she had even survived. This is my fourth. I’m not into trying new things at this point. I have methods and they work for me and I’m sure I will be that 80 year old that no one can stand because I will be set in all of my ridiculous ways. That being said, please excuse me if I made a face (accidentally) when she said she breastfed until each of her 4 children were 4 years old, but only at nap time or if they were upset about something. Please excuse me if I passed serious judgement in my head about her not enrolling her children in school (which is actually homeschooling) until they are 7, because that is the PA state law. 7 is wayyyy to old to begin school and I was so shocked that that’s the PA law. Especially when you compare it to the workload my 6 year old has in public school, and then to how that workload is a fraction of what kids in China and elsewhere in the world experience. It’s no wonder all of our jobs are being outsourced and other countries are flying past us in so many areas.
Other than that, the only other interesting thing that ended my workout at 60 minutes was the woman who was apparently dying next me. She was coughing like a cat on a hairball, in my direction. Seriously. Not even covering her mouth. It wasn’t a cough like she was sick or even recovering. When she wasn’t coughing, she was grunting like she was battling something fierce inside of her. It was purely disgusting and with that, I said goodbye to the gym for the day.
Today will be another special edition in my winter of 2013-2014, which is apparently a spin off from the movie, “The Shining.” By 9:30, we’ve played with play doh, colored, played with toys, watched an episode of Sesame Steet, made eggs and bacon, done all the laundry, and now everyone is bored. No one wants to sled yet because they were skiing all weekend, so it will be one of those days I guess.