Gym Rant

Ready for another gym rant, I mean “post”?

As I’ve mentioned before, I go to the gym early to avoid people, noises…ha!ha! pretty much everything. However, for some reason, “stupidity” follows me 8-\

Remember the locker room? (Not A Robot)? Yeah, it continues. This time I got to see the perpetrator face-to-face! So, I’m done with my workout. Heading toward my locker I see someone standing right by it with her stuff all over the place (typical). I think, “when she sees me heading that way she will move aside” — ha!ha! that would be the right thing to do, but NOT for mua! She turns away from me as if she didn’t see me. I clear my throat…I’m standing right next to her…she ignores me! Her locker door is totally blocking mine. I say, “excuse me”, nothing! I clear my throat again and ask if I can get to my locker. NOTHING!!! I gently grab her locker door and move it so that I can get into my locker, slide myself in and get my stuff and move to another locker (you would have been proud of me). She doesn’t even say a peep! People, just know, I am NOT a very patient and kind person. It seriously took a lot of self-control for me not to…well…I’ll just let you imagine it. She better be thankful that she wasn’t dealing with “La Sleepy from the Hood” cause things would have gotten ugly.  This post would not be a rant from my living room, but a rant from a four-by-four room with me wearing a fashionable “orange-suite-with-a-number”…just sayin!

Remember the bathroom? (Not A Robot) So, add to what I told you this – there is this lady that puts all her things on this particular treadmill (cause there’s not 10 other treadmills to use…ha!ha!). She goes to the bathroom and “sits” for like 30 minutes listening to music and doing her thang. Today, her music was loud as can be. I’m guessing it was to drown out the “music” she was making. All I have to say is, the music was not drowning out the “sounds” from the rest of us :-/

And, we have the parking lot. Folks, this gym is big, so the parking lot is huge. When I get there I park close to the door because it’s still dark outside and because there’s only like 5 cars on the lot and because I want to. When I leave, it’s still early and there are still plenty of parking spaces. Would you believe it if I told you that I’ve been honked at and blasted with high beams because I’m not quick enough to move out of the parking space?  Yup, I have. People, people!!! Maybe, just maybe, if they parked further they’d get more steps for their fit-bit…just sayin!

Ok, so I’m laughing now! Silver lining is, when the writing juices aren’t flowing, there’s always something to write “from the gym”…he!he!

 

Pedicure

It’s Saturday! What to do?

Summer and Sandals go together, right? Of course, sandals call for the cutest pedicure, unless —squirrel!— your like that lady I saw yesterday wearing shorts a tank top and sandals with (ready!?) white socks that reached all the way up to her knees! Yup! Yes, I cringed too.

Anywho, come on, let’s go get a pedicure! I’m bringing a book, and my notebook with my pen ready to write. Natalie Goldberg in her book “Writing Down the Bones” recommends one try to write anywhere and everywhere. The nail salon might be a good place to attempt to write “undistracted”.

Here we are. Good, it’s not that crowded. “Yes, pedicure, please.”

The comfortable massage chair beckons me to sit and unwind. The tub in front of it is being filled with bubbly warm water. Feet in…yes! My pedicurist and I try to communicate, yeah both accents are not meshing very well. Yes, a written paper with a “menu” of services. I point to the pedicure with massage, ending with warm towels.

Book, notebook and pen on my lap…trying to get my mind to settle…trying to get those creative juices going…OUCH!!! Can you guess where this is going? Um, is it just me? Are my attempts at “self-care” producing more, um, pain?

And, so proceeded the endless ouch! sorry! ouch! sorry! ouch! sorry! Blood, a chunk pulled out of my toe with oodles of crazy glue (yes, crazy glue…crazy huh?!) poured into the hole to stop the bleeding. By the way, this was my second time trying this place. I figured the first “assault”, I mean pedicure, she was probably having a bad day. Well, from the looks of it, today she is having an even worse day, AND we can’t communicate! You’d think my cringing face, the pulling of my foot and my audible “ouch” would be enough for her to get the message, right?

It’s over…I’m limping…my toe is throbbing. This might not have been the greatest idea. I think I need to find another nail place…don’t know…ha!ha! Ya think!

My Massage

It’s been a little gloomy around here, so I think it’s time for some R&R.

Today I am going to take you to a place of rest, relaxation and renewal. Where your body will be lavishly lathered with wonderful coconut oil. All your senses will be engaged as you hear the sound of the birds, amidst the ocean waves crashing and taking you into a place of total bliss. The aromatherapy with it’s lavender scent will calm and relax you…deep breath…can you smell it? Let yourself go…relax!

That is until “Genna” (not her real name) walks in!

Picture Rocky training to “Eye of the Tiger”. Can you hear the knuckles cracking?

AND SO IT STARTS…your relaxing massage – ha!ha!, so you thought 8-\

Snap, crackle, pop! Wait, should I be fighting back? I’m confused…

She asks, “how are you doing?” My thoughts, “do you really want to know?” In a barely audible, squeaky whisper I manage to say, “ok…”

The torture, I mean massage, continues. Ouch! Was that an elbow to my…OUCH! Ok, never mind…uncle, uncle! Whatever she is pressing is making me lift from the table…really?! I’m paying for this?

Finally, she is done! The 60 minute relaxing massage, which turned into an all out beating, which I must say was totally unfair.  I should have fought back…just sayin!  Anywho, it was finally over!

On the bright side (cause I’m really trying to find the “bright side) it did take my mind off my emotional pain 😉

Where will I go next? Stay tuned…you just never know 😀

The Fork

People, places and things give me anxiety. I think I have always been this way, but I’m told that the grief/ptsd makes it worse.

Because I can’t just lock myself in a dark room (although this is very appealing), I’m learning to navigate life and it’s many duties in a way that is “healthy” for me. BUT I seem to be a magnet for…well…I’ll just say “quirkiness”. I think you’ve gathered this from my previous posts –The Sauna and Not A Robot

What does this have to do with a “fork”? Well, nothing. I just needed an introduction 😀

Early morning grocery shopping. “I made it out without having one meltdown…yes!” Making my way through the parking lot, in a race to make it to my car unfrazzled, I look over at a parked truck. What do I see? Double take! “Am I seeing what I’m seeing?” I almost lost it! Not from anxiety, but from laughter…yes, laughter.

By the way, did I tell you I did a double take, and a triple take…and another take, just to confirm what I was seeing. I would say that this is a verifiable fact and not fake news. I repeat, this is not fake news!

The sighting:  A guy sitting in the parked truck busy “grooming” his beard and mustache. You ask, “What’s so funny about a man grooming himself in his truck?”  Glad you asked…are you ready? Here goes, he was using a WHITE DISPOSABLE FORK (in all caps for a dramatic queue) to comb and style his beard and mustache. Yup, he was!

I wonder if he used the fork to eat before or after his grooming time? If you ask me, in my humble opinion I’d say, “please use fork after eating your meal so as to have the oil residue help untangle, smooth and moisturize your beard and mustache. You will create an all day silky smooth look without any frizz,” said in a commercial like voice so as to create a desire for this magnificent product 😉

Ok, back to my normal voice. This was weird and I could not believe what I was seeing, but on the positive side, it sure gave me a chuckle that lasted for the remainder of the day.

Have you seen anything “quirky” or that made you do a double take? Just wondering…

Pajamas

The following is based on real events. The identity of the participants has been changed to protect their privacy…just kidding, I don’t know them or their names. It just sounded like a good opening.

Pajamas! Yup, pjs. I’ve gotten used to seeing people wearing pajama bottoms everywhere. NOT! Who am I kidding, I still do a double take when I see someone at the grocery store, at the mall, on the street…wearing their pajama bottoms as if it’s the latest fashion. In fact, I saw this young lady with full on flannel pajamas, along with her dragging blanket, grocery shopping. Oh yes, let’s not forget the fluffy slippers.

I thought I had seen it all. But, I was wrong…oh, so wrong!

Back at the gym. Getting my old bones working and my crackling body flexible enough to keep going. I glance over to the stair-master AND…pause for dramatic music — yes folks, pajama bottoms! I am not even kidding you. An older man sweating away in dark blue, pinstriped, flannel pj bottoms. To my delight, he was wearing a regular white t-shirt. So not all was lost. I shook my head and made my way to the sauna…remember the The Sauna

Out from the steam room steps a petite older woman in…wait for it……ummmmm……I’m having difficulty writing this (not really…hehe!) — she is wearing a skimpy nighty! I guess the matching chonies made it ok, maybe even fashionable.

I think I’ll just head home…

What will we find, next time, at the gym?

The Sauna

Saunaa small room, heated to high temperatures used for health and relaxation. I place to unplug, unwind. I place of peace and quiet (my definition). Can you almost hear the waves splashing as the seagulls fly around? Yes, serenity!

My doctor initially recommended I join a full service gym to help with my chronic health issues. Now we have added “to help cope” with grief and sorrow with the added PTSD that has decided to tag along.

From my above definition, can you “see” what my expectations are as I venture into this “oasis” of tranquility? Allow me to entertain you with my brain activity during one, yes one, of my sauna sessions ⇒⇒⇒

Sitting down, legs crossed, eyes closed, deep breaths…yes, zoned out…come on! Door opens…don’t move…don’t open your eyes…stay in the zone.

Noises! What is that? Why is he grunting like that? Oh, seriously?! Is that music? LOUD music…the lyrics…goodness, they ain’t singing good things…oh that’s nasty. Wait, doesn’t he have headphones (oops, opened my eyes)…he does?!?!

Someone else enters – wait? it must be two people cause they are having a full blown conversation, a very loud conversation, if you ask me. She is on the phone…seriously?! who is she talking to at this hour? Oh, not a PG conversation…should I cover my ears?

Another – coughing and sniffling, really?! Cover your cough! Do you have a tissue? Do you need a tissue? In my opinion, you need lots of tissues AND you need to go to the bathroom to blow your nose…just saying.

Another – Salsa music, loud and clear. Yes, he has headphones (man, I opened my eyes again). He is dancing, like nobody is watching. Yeah, he needs some dancing lessons, but don’t tell him cause he thinks he is all that and a bag of chips.

Ok, this place is getting crowded. My time is up. I don’t think I found “the zone”.

Until next time…

The Writer’s Club

Moving forward one step at a time. Sometimes the steps backwards are more than those forward, but, hey, I’m trying.In my quest of forward moving, I decided to go to a Writer’s Club. Something new, yet familiar. I’ll let you in on my visit. Here we go…I’m here. No ones talks to me. No one says hello, or even makes eye contact. Do I leave? Do I stay? “Hey, you are already here”, I tell myself. I sit and wait for whatever is next. Wow, this takes me back to my school days. I feel like I’m in the not-so-popular-table…awkward! Finally, someone is at the podium and is getting this meeting started. She introduces herself as the club’s president.  She gives us a “writing exercise”. For 10 minutes write about a “donut”.  This is what I write:At the writers club-my first time! People are snotty and to themselves. If they know you, they talk to you, if they don’t, well you just sit in the corner feeling like you are back in school. Funny, did we ever grow up? I know each of these people has a story or a dream (to be a famous writer) but they rather write it on paper than talk. Is that called being an introvert?Assignment: pick a donut from the box being passed around. You can eat it, observe it or throw it away, it doesn’t matter. Just write something about the donut for 10 minutes.Watching people pick their donut was very interesting. Some picked their favorite, others just a prop. The grumpy man sitting in front of me – who by the way didn’t even say hello –  decided he didn’t want a donut. Thinking I was helping I said to him, “She said you didn’t have to eat it. You can even throw it away.” He growled at me, “I don’t need a donut! In fact, I have a story why I don’t need a donut!!!” Well, okay then…Times up! Some volunteered to read what they wrote. I might say that there was really creative writing and stories. I enjoyed that. I, for obvious reasons, opted out.The meeting ended, I quickly made my way out. Yeah, I tried…not my thing. But it was interesting.