Bad Kitty

I have a cat named Daisy. I love her. However, she is a handful. Observe.

Wednesday

I had a particularly rough day at work, so I came home to my couch. I lit some tea lights, then snuggled in….kitties too. A little bit later, I needed to go to the restroom. I’m sitting there, and I smell smoldering. Instinct kicks in at this point. I leap up! Skivvies around my ankles, I start making a bee line for the living room. I look like a cross between a drunk sorority girl and a zombie as I’m tripping, stumbling and falling towards the living room. I fling off the unmentionables from my ankle and see my tea lights are all on and ok. My Daisy, however, has a smoldering ass.

She stares at me with a bright-eyed face and a sweet meow.

Me: What did you do!?!?!

Daisy: hunkers down, ears flat, smoke coming off her ass

Me: grab Daisy by the scruff and run to the kitchen sink

Daisy: lets out a growly cry

Me: I’m sorry!

Daisy: another growly cry

Me: plunge her smoldery smelly ass under the faucet and into the sink where the fur begins to literally fly

Fighting fur, a mad cat and the wretched smell of burnt hair, I assess the situation. It seems she jumped onto the table in the 30 seconds I was gone, swished her tail through the flames just enough to smolder, then jumped off the table.

Damn it Daisy. Then it got worse.

Thursday

I wake up and go about my normal routine – noting that Daisy was acting a little weird, but I attributed that to her smelly burnt ass. On my 45 minute drive to work, I determine I’m starving. I pull into a place to eat and…. wallet is missing!

All day I panic. What did I do with my wallet? I backtracked. I called places. No one had it… but no one was making any charges either, which was refreshing. All day I panicked and couldn’t leave to make the long drive home, then back to work because of a busy schedule.

When I finally make it home, I walk in to see that my house looks like a confetti cannon went off. Before I continue, you must know that my sweet darling has pica according to the vet. This means she has a compulsion where she can’t NOT eat things that are random. She eats everything that isn’t tied down, much like a dog. But what’s horrid is that when she eats on naughty things like electric cords, she looks at me with these sad eyes that seem to say, “I know I’m not supposed to, but I can’t stop!” So….picture it if you will:

Daisy has jumped onto the top of the fridge (by way of a counter she’s not to be on) and knocked down my calendar. This was traumatic apparently because she ate most of said calendar and spit it all over my kitchen and living room. Apparently in the living room, she found a (non toxic) plant. She proceeded to eat and spray leaf bits all over my floor. THEN. My mistake, but I left a bag of bows out from an after holiday sale. Daisy ate through the bag and played with them. All over the place.

DAMN IT DAISY.

She runs to hide.

As I begin to vacuum and clean, I forget that I’ve lost my wallet. After the vacuum doesn’t suck up all the little bits… I get on my knees and start picking it out of my carpet. This is why I see ALL of Daisy’s toys from the holiday stuck in the back of her kitty house. I think that she’s probably been hoarding them from her sister. So I reach in to pull them out and put them in the collective toy bin. This is when I feel a lump.

Yup.

My wallet was in there, so was some lip balm, a few hair ties and a Chanel lip stain I thought I lost. I have no idea how long she’s been playing kitty hoarder. And, the only way I think she got the wallet? She probably dug into my purse (which I admit on occasion I forget to zip and leave open on the kitchen table – which she doesn’t hop onto…apparently unless I’m in bed) to find another hair tie and knocked the wallet out by accident. The wallet was small, and she didn’t have to go far to get it to the hoarder kitty house…..apparently carrying it in her mouth like a prize bird….because the soft leather of my Coach wallet has teeth marks and is also stained with drool. I think that’s drool?

I’m glad I got it back, even if it isn’t pristine any more….. but DAMN IT DAISY. I guess that makes us even for me having open flame for her to burn her fur. Well played Daisy….

As I type this, she’s beside me sound to sleep. Clearly she’s had a long couple days.

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Taylor’s Faux Pas

My beloved Taylor is having a rough month.  The cat has a wax belly and the dog peed on her Chistmas deer.

I had the pleasure of meeting up with Taylor for dinner, where she shared to stories of her week.  Enjoy.

Bad Dog!!!

If you’re single, we all have that item of clothing (or outfit) we wear for comfort and would simply die if anyone saw.  For me?  It’s a pair of blue pants I wore after back surgery.  The elastic in the waist is worn out so it gives me continual plumber crack.

Taylor hasn’t felt well lately, so she put on her comfort attire (which I will define shortly in detail).  I was envisioning her comfort attire as….well…. nothing heinous honestly.  She seems too put together to have comfort wear, but I suppose they say the same about me.

Anyway – Taylor’s comfort outfit is a salmon color tshirt that says ARUBA in nasty turquoise blue letters.  No bra.  Tucked into grey sweat pants with an elastic cuff, and big blue socks that have little balls on them.  Observe:

taylor

Now THIS is sexy….

Taylor was laying on the couch trying not to die when her doorbell rang.  Mortified that she was in her comfort wear, Taylor weekly made it to the door and squeaked “Who is it?”  Turns out it was a concerned co-worker there to bring meds and soup.  Awww.

Taylor told her to leave the materials at the door and she will get them.  No one would see Taylor in this outfit if she could help it!

A few minutes later, Taylor opens the door to get said items.  Call it slow reactions.  Call it bad dog.  Call it fate.  But something made Taylor’s dog Max make a mad dash for the outside world at this point.

Max is young and is not an outside dog, thus Taylor had to plow down the street of her neighborhood….. in her comfort-wear.  Here is how she said it went down, verbatim.

Taylor: YOU FU*&ING BASTARD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! GET BACK HERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Max: yelps and runs – this is a game for him now

Taylor: SON OF A BITCH!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Max: gives her a look like… um actually? Yes.

Taylor: STOP! BAD DOG!!!!!!!

Max: cuts through a neighbor’s yard and proceeds to poop on said yard

Taylor, winded from having run and scream, while sick, scooped Max up, pulled some toilet paper from her pocket (apparently she has a cold), and cleaned up best she could.  Max seemed pleased, but Taylor feels she now has to move because her street has seen her comfy wear.

God Bless Taylor.

Really?

A few days later, Taylor went back to work.   At lunch, Taylor went to the little grocery by her office where all the earth-friendly people go.  People were giving her the once over, and she thought it was because she hadn’t brought in her re-usable grocery bag.  She felt guilty, but kept perusing.  After many scowls, Taylor began scowling back.

At the check out, Taylor’s checkout guy was also giving her the eye.  Then he asked if she’d like to buy a bag. And then this happened:

Taylor: THAT’S IT!!!!!!!!!  No.  I don’t want a bag.  I’m sorry I forgot to bring my reusable bag in, but I feel like crap and I’m on cold meds.  Whatever.  Just give me my stuff.

Bagboy: Gives her the once over and says: Really?

Taylor looks down.

Taylor: Oh shit.

Then she quickly grabs her bag and runs out.

Why?  Taylor was forced to  participate in her office Ugly Sweater party.  Apparently, Taylor forgot she was wearing said hideous sweater and THAT was what folks were looking at…. not her lack of earth-friendly carry alls.

So in the course of a week, Taylor, has gone from pulled together cutie to What Not to Wear.  God BLESS Taylor.  Hope she feels better soon.

Merry Christmas-Happy Holidays! Stay out of the ugly sweaters and off the cold meds.

Me

Wild Kingdom Hit Bees and Assassins

For reals.  It’s spring and the wild kingdom is making its presence known at my office.

Remember how I said Gangster Squirrels were taking over?  Well, clearly this wasn’t bad enough.  Clearly I wasn’t scared enough.  What did they do?  Sent in the ….oh I’m not spoiling it.  Read on dear blog land.  Read on.  I fear this could be my last post if the Gangster Squirrels get their way.

I am sitting in the sun, minding my own business.  Sun on my face, beautiful blue sky, wind in my hair…..it’s the making of a perfect lunch.

Bzzzzzz

Me: Oh! My!I jump up and flee my sunny spot.  See, I’m very allergic to bees….

Bzzzzz  Said bee now has a friend….and they are chasing me

Me: Ok self.  Stay calm.  They can smell fear.

BZZZZZZZ

Me: Holy hell they are multiplying! Said bee and bee friend now have three more bee friends.

Think girl! What do you do in a bee attack!? Um….. I racked my brain for details…..came up blank. At this point the bees are dive bombing me and all I can think of is GET YOUR ASS INSIDE.

I start doing what you ARE NOT supposed to do, which is swat madly. I am backing up, swatting and then I feel it.  Oh yes.  I stepped on something.  Something that wasn’t mulch.  Something that squished a little.  I freeze because whatever I stepped on, I have royally pissed off because it is now making a freaking hissing sound!

See! It’s REAL y’all! Wait until you hear how I got this shot.

Me: SUGAR!!!!!!!!!!!  Why I decided to scream sugar rather than sh*&?  I have no idea. Maybe because I feared it would be my last words, and I couldn’t go to Heaven cursing.

I then decide that I’m about to be bitten and left for dead outside my office.  All I can think of is: Oh GOD! Don’t let that Eat Me woman appear!   The snake is hissing madly and I realize that I am still ON the snake.  Oh.  And the bees are still dive bombing me.

I stumble and fall. Damn you hot new shoes! You are too tall for your own good!

Me:  Goodbye cruel world….  Dramatic, but fitting. At least I don’t have to deal with *insert the work event that’s driving me bonkers*……

I see something move out of the corner of my eye.  What is it?  I blink in the bright sun….

It’s a squirrel. …a damn gangster squirrel.  Sitting there. Eyeing me.  Laughing at me. On his fat, fuzzy butt.  He threw his nut at me and ran off, scoffing at me like “Take that, Bitch.”

Snake starts circling me.  The bees have done what they were sent to do, so they have left.  It’s just me and snake.  Did I mention I’m deadly terrified of snakes? I’m scrambling to get up, but all I can see is that snake and its stupid tongue flicking at me menacingly.

Coworker: Are you ok? Bends over to help me out of the mulch.

Me: mmm? I take my coworkers hand and pull myself up.

Coworker: Oh there’s a snake!  I’ve never seen a snake here in all the years I’ve been here! Bends down to inspect said snake. Snake slowly slithers away.

Me: silently mull over the fact that the Gangster Squirrels hired hit bees and a snake assassin to get me.

Coworker: Oh my God! Were you bitten? You haven’t said a word.  You are never this quiet.  Are you ok?

Me: I manage to stammer Yeah. I’m good. Thanks for helping me up.

Coworker: Ok then.  Need anything from the grocery?

Me: No…. I’m good. Thanks.

I stumble back inside, thrilled to be in the safety of my office, clear on the other side of where the hit bees and snake assassin were.  I get back to work, happy to be alive. Laughing because, though a valiant effort, I WAS NOT taken down by wild kingdom.

Me: Dear GOD.

Coworker2:What?

Me: A spider just crawled across my screen.  Don’t we have a bug guy? Why is my desk always riddled with spiders??

Coworker2 comes over to inspect and kill said spider for me.

Coworker2: SNAKE!!!! Come look! It’s right outside your window.  Hear it?

Me: frozen in terror Where?

Coworker2: leans over my desk and points

Me: You’ve GOT to be kidding me!!!!!

Coworker2: What?  I mean this is crazy! I’ve never seen a snake here before! And this one is pissed! It’s making noise like crazy!

Me: They are out to get me.

Coworker2: Um….ok Miss Snow White. Why are the snakes out to get you….

Me: scowl at coworker I was almost attacked by a snake at lunch today.  And BEES.

Coworker2: Mmhm…. Sure.

Me: For real!

Coworker2: And I suppose one of your fat ass squirrels attacked you with a shiv after.

Me: He tired! snubby face

Coworker2: Have you been drinking?

Me: No,  you know I’d share.  Hand me my phone…. I’m going to take a picture of my snake friend.

I approach window, snap picture.  Snake rares up strikes at window.

Coworker2: OH HOLY HELL!

Me: SEE!

Coworker2: The hell did you do to piss of Mother Nature?  If I see a shiv’ed squirrel, I’ll crack up.

Me: This is funny to you? I may be under siege by Mother Nature herself.  How do you think I feel?

Coworker2: Can I write your epitaph?  Here lies Snow White.  Shived by Squirrels.

Me: I hate you.

Coworker2: Buy you a drink after work?

Me: Only if you carry me to the car. I fear there are snakes.

Coworker2: They won’t be there, they’ll be IN your car. laughs menacingly

Me: Did I already say I hate you?

Coworker: Effing snakes man…. it’s still squatted by the window

Me: Maybe he’s just camera shy.

Coworker: Why is it a he and not a she?

Me: Ok fine. Let’s have that drink….

Coworker2: t-minus one hour.

Me: Thank God.

Miss Fix It Blows a Gasket

This pretty much sums up my week.

Yeah…. that’s about right.

You know how you always have that one go-to person.  The person you call if shit goes down because you know, regardless of how he/she feels about you or the situation you got yourself in, this person will pull it together, fix the situation and calm the storm.  Case in point, bail me out of jail at o-dark-30 am.

This week, it seems all I exist to do is spin gold out of poo.  That’s my week.  Actually, who am I kidding…in my profession? With my personality? That’s sort of my life story.

Thankfully it was not as bad as the “I can’t tell… might be dead or OD’d ‘lady friend’ in the hotel room of a prominent client” night that I had to handle once a few years back…. but here’s what went down this week….and the resulting meltdown.

1) I have been placed in charge of my sister’s baby shower.  Mom was supposed to do it, but for reasons I’ll leave out for now, she has kinda checked out.  This leaves me with the planning.  Great, right? Not at all. My sister can’t agree on anything with me for the blessed event except that she wants food there…lots of food.

I plan events.  It’s kinda my thing. I realize she has a different style. (Seriously, her wedding was pot luck, no alcohol, no music except my old jambox from 6th grade playing a mix tape, no speeches/toasts/etc., there were no centerpieces, flowers, table covers or decorations…and no wedding favors for guests.  Oh.  And I was forced to wear the most hideous bridesmaids dress on the planet.)

That aside, knowing that I am paying for this shower and people sadly DO expect more from me because of my reputation and skill set…. I am having a hard time working around being told finger sandwiches are “too uppity”; punch and tea are “stupid” and the only party game she wants to play is the disgusting one where you melt candy bars in diapers.  I was also told I’m jealous because this isn’t my shower….and that since I’m so “old” and “picky”, I’ll probably never have a shower of any kind.  Ouch. :’-(  I’m trying to behave with grace.  I just really wish mom would check back in for five minutes and let me breathe.

2) Work…. I have a new title and no raise.  I’ve worked no less than 50 hours this week, and it’s just Thursday. One of the things my boss tasked me with this week?  Getting a life size cut out of her deceased husband. She mentioned it before and I was always able to slide it under the rug and ignore her.  However, this week it has been brought up four times.  She wants this to take with us to our organization’s biggest event.  She plans to charge people to have their pictures made with it….then prop it up in her office.

Boss: And if you can make one that I can transport back and forth in the car like a human, that’d be great.

Me: only in my mind, but I thought DEAR GOD.  What the hell. Someone pour me a tequila.  She’s lost it.

She also asked me, again, to make sure I “record my time donated” to our non-profit arm of the organization so that I can take it off taxes next year. Key word here? DONATED.

3) I found out that I’ll be in a new city this weekend.  I fly out at 5am one day.  Will be back at 9:30pm the next day.  Fun?  NO. I’m being flown in to run interference.  Two siblings are having a baby.  Both boys.  One is her first kid, one is her second kid.  Both are due within days.  Cool right? Nope.  Sibling rivalry is on a whole new level.  I’m there to be sure one doesn’t take down the other.  To ensure both ladies have a good time and that both feel equally loved and attended to….even though the baby shower is only for ONE sibling and the other one is fuming mad about it.  For some reason, the parents think I can help.  I’m not sure.  But I AM SURE  that I will have wine.  Lots of wine…in a flask or two…that is TSA compliant because be-damn if I check a bag for a 24 hour stay.

4) I was called to deal with a 14 year old boy who lost his mom to suicide.  Last night he was over the edge crazy and his dad admitted he was emotionally checked out.  I went in, talked the kid off the ledge, literally, played basketball with him for hours, helped him cry, then put him to bed.  I didn’t eat dinner, but apparently I was emotionally drained enough that I did get four hours of sleep in.

This is a small insight into my week.  There’s more, but I don’t have the time nor the energy to write it.  A few minutes ago, I got a call from a “friend” and I think I may have had an aneurism, a stroke…. or possibly just a fit of rage.  I’m not sure.

So this “friend” is “oh that person” to most of my girls.  We all have one…the girl who is always whiney, never happy, and is uber selfish and clingy.  That’s her.

The rule amongst my friends? Unless we’ve said otherwise, don’t call me at work unless you are bloody, broken (hearts, bones and cars apply here) or need bail.  Email me.  Text me.  I swear I’ll answer quick as I can.

Well, this “friend” I shall now refer to as Bianca.  No offense to the readers out there that have or care for a Bianca, but I’ve never met one that didn’t make me want to claw my eyes out and shove sharp objects in my ears to dull the pain.

Bianca moved out of the state, but still has a home here.  I am supposed to water the plants and let in realtors as needed.  Bianca called last week saying she is “bored” and we had words about when it was appropriate to call me and when it was not.  I thought I was crystal clear.  Apparently….my don’t call unless its an emergency rule doesn’t apply to her.

Me: Hey Bianca – what’s wrong?

Bianca: Um. Why do you answer the phone like that? Nothing’s wrong.

Me: Because it’s work.  During my busy time.  You know this.  We discussed.

Bianca: Well, I just miss you and I’m totally bored at work. I miss my **married and has two kids who I told her never to mention in front of me because I think the whole thing is fully horrible** boyfriend- its our one year anniversary; and I have no friends up here; and I have nothing to spend my money on and the weather here sucks and I am just losing my mind I’m so bored….. So how are you?

Me: silence….I can literally feel the heat coming up in my face.  Y’all.  I think I blacked out for a second.

Bianca: Um. Hello! I said I missed you.  Why don’t you ever call me?

Me: BIANCA!!!! You are either completely stupid or completely selfish.  For the life of me I can’t figure out which.  You KNOW I’m busy.  You KNOW not to call unless it’s an emergency because I answer.  GOD HELP ME, I care about people and I answer. You want to know how I am? I am F***ING FANTASTIC!!!

I work overtime all the time for a boss who’s batshit crazy.  I make less money now than I did when I graduated from college and I just found out I owe $600 in taxes.  Where in the hell is that coming from? I have no idea! I have a dad who’s got dementia, a mom who’s checked out, a baby shower to plan IN ALL MY SPARE TIME for a sister who is acting like an ungrateful witch, my heart is actually breaking in my personal life, last night after a ten hour day I dealt with a 14 year old kid who’s mom just committed suicide and this weekend my motion sick ass has to be on SEVEN F***ING PLANES in 24 hours because I can’t afford the flights that are more direct so that I can referee two sisters who have no idea how lucky they are to both be married with kids and instead want to rip each others throats out.

Bianca: Wow. You sound busy.  And did you just say f***? I’ve never heard you say that.

Me: Wow Bianca.  That’s what you took from this? Yes. I’m busy. So unless it’s an emergency – and I mean a my body’s lying in a ditch emergency – send me a F****ING email or text like EVERYONE ELSE DOES.

Then I hung up on her.  And I must say.  I feel much better.

I need a shot though.  I’m really lucky that I took my call in our boardroom.  No one was able to hear my rant… the boss is gone for the day and the other staff was wherever the crap they go when they hide from working….aka not at their desks or on premise that I could surmise.

Cheers…and let’s all get tanked tonight. Ok.  Fine.  Just a glass or two of wine.  I promise.

I Think I’m Down By One

I’ve never been happier that I have full bladder control. I’m pretty sure what just happened would have left less stellar bladders void, thus causing major embarrassment in the office setting.

I think my heart may have stopped for a microsecond. And I’m certain one of my nine lives is gone…actually, I think that drops me to 6…but those are stories for another day.

Here’s what happened.

As you know, I work in crazy town. A place where the membership isless than stellarand the outdoor animals run amok.

Today, I had my floor to ceiling window blinds shut tight.  It got dark, so I decided I needed to let in some light.  I walk around my desk to open the blinds and here is what happened:

Me: Fu…www…aaaantastic. Oh my God!

I freeze in abject terror, my hands drawn up to my face a la all those goofy movie trailers you see where people have the absolute shit scared out of them.  Yeah.  That actually happened so I can no longer say “oh COME on” when I see these trailers heretofore.

I see before me what I’m pretty sure was a zombie homeless woman.  She was just standing there, vacantly staring into the window, her face barely grazing the glass, yet no breath marks are on the window pane.  She has deep circles under her brown eyes, her hair is long, dark and scraggly.  If Medusa was a hippy and had dreads, this is what it would look like.

She wore a t-shirt, torn at the neck from wear. It said “EAT ME” on it.  A lovely sentiment.

I unfreeze for a moment and forget that there is a desk behind me.  I start to back up a little, and at the moment my ass hits the edge of the desk, the Eat Me woman bangs her fist on the window and grunts.

Me: HOLY S…h…

Thankfully, the rest of that statement was completely overshadowed by the fact I had somersaulted backwards over my desk, landed in the floor, knocked over my plant and pen cup, and had somehow wrapped myself in the phone, pulling it out of the wall.

I think I blacked out for a second. I got my wits about me and looked up just in time to see the zombie Eat Me woman run like something out of 28 Days, arms and legs all flailing…she scaled our fence and ran across the heavily trafficked road to the bus station.

All I could do is put my head back down.  Oh the comfort of the floor.  Thank God I opted for pants today.  I began to feel my heart resume beating.  I sat up and looked across the office to see who witnessed my demise.

Coworker 1: That was some funny shit.

Coworker 2: I seriously thought you were out cold.

Me: I hate you both. Seriously.

Coworker 1: Totally worth it.  That’s priceless.  Princess down!  But, you kept the Pradas on.  Good job.

Me: She was freakin’ undead over here – grunting and banging the glass!! It was terrifying!

Coworker 2: You almost cursed. I can die happy.

Me: Seriously. That’s what you get from me almost dying???  How about “are you ok?”  You both suck.

Here’s hoping your Friday wasn’t cracked out and creepy like mine.

Me

Uncle Hunky and the Nun

I’m a ball of nerves today.  Why?  Well, I am waiting impatiently to find out about a job.  I’ve had two interviews, presentations…. I feel confident! But….now I wait.  I suck at waiting.  I keep checking my phone like I’m a teenager waiting on a boy….which I am actually doing for that reason too….but I digress.

I can’t sleep, so I log in to chat.  Low and behold, my good college friend is there.  I tell my friend about my nerves.  She’s nervous too.  And here’s what happens. 

Note: I am pretty sure neither of us slept in the last four days.  Me due to nerves, her due to…being due actually.  I have changed all the names in this chat session that began around 3am.  This was uproariously funny around 4:30.  Maybe its not. I’m still working on no sleep.  Anyway,  M is my friend, Alex is my godchild, Dean is my to be born next godchild, I is…well.. me.

M:  I want to know the moment you have news.  I even made Alex pray for it tonight.  “And please help those sweet people at the hospital realize that Aunt I is the best thing that has ever crossed their doorstep”

I:  you are fantastic and wonderful

M:  Then you may really like the next part.  We said “and please help a hunky and great doctor realize that my Aunt I would complete his world”

I:  or the one hunky male i like now…..

M: I don’t care what his name is, or if he’s a doctor…Alex and Dean are going to call him Uncle Hunky.

Uncle Hunky, why do we call you that when your name is Joe?  Uncle Hunky, why does mommy laugh til she cries every time we say your name?

I: can’t – breathe – laughing- loudly…but… you know that’s partly why i’m up still.

M: Did a want him to be future uncle hunky hurt you?

I: no…. just me wanting clarification on things that i can’t get in to right now. if this doesn’t work, i’m done. no uncle hunky. i’m done with relationshits. i’m gonna convert and be a nun.

M: hahahaha

I: thanks for laughing at my nun potential!!!  i totally could.  honestly though, i am just tired of waiting for someone to say i’m his. to want me the way i want him….i think the nun thing has potential. i’m a good girl – i pray a lot anyway.  i would miss wearing my pradas though….

M: Wait. You didn’t mean to make a pun?

I: ?

M: Relationshits. It’s fitting for you darling.

I: ha! I didn’t mean that. but yes. relationshits. it’s amazing how one little letter changes the whole word. i’ve dealt with too many relationshits.  wait. i said shit and nun in the same sentence.  does that mean i can’t be a nun even if i didn’t mean it?

M: Yes.

I: Shit. Plan C?

M: Tequila?

*****
Alex woke up wailing and she had to go. I spent the rest of the night watching infomercials and a repeat of this movie.

Damn you January Gym

It’s January.  Everybody and their brother resolves to lose weight and get in shape for the new year.  This means the gym in January is packed.  Packed with people in their brand new gym clothes and shiny new tennis shoes. Here’s me: annoyed. My if-you-have-been-coming-here-long-enough-you-know-I-call-dibs-on-this-locker is gone, my favorite cardio machines are taken and I have to wait in line for a shower.

Hey – I’m all for working and feeling your best – go man go! But, I prefer to bypass the gym until the “January gymers” are gone.  This means that I have to resort to workout DVDs at times.  That happened tonight – and it was epic.

My friend recommended a DVD to me and said, “If you can finish half of it? I’ll be fully impressed.”  Um – GAME ON!  I pop the thing in thinking it was going to be cake.   HELL NO.  Warning.  Grab your pearls mama.  I am about to unleash a little cursing.

The first sign that this would be difficult?  The terrified “run for the love of God” look on the girl’s face to the trainer’s left and the “I’m about to shit myself” look on the man in the back.  Slightly apprehensive, I continue through the warm up.  That was the last nice thing that happened.  Here’s how it went down:

TV: after an intense series of flies and rows – 2 more!

Me: sweat dripping down my back

TV: Just kidding, 15 more

Me: Damn you!

TV: Now switch and go 30 – Angel, if you are going to do this half ass, don’t do it at all.

Me: The hell? Were you talking to me?

No.  TV man literally bashed one of his trainees…for the world to see….multiple times….  I looked at Angel, AKA “Shit Myself” guy and felt his pain.

TV: Around the world push ups, sumo squats and divebombers

Me: after round 6 of the push ups, I have sweat in places I didn’t know you could sweat.  I have begun to shake like one of those tiny ass dogs in the cold.  I moan –  I FREAKING HATE YOU.

And then he says what I was sure was a lie.

TV: We are 20 minutes in! 40 more to go! Now – side burpees and side plank extensions

Me: Stop all motions cold: The fuck.

TV: continues to blurt out instruction, demonstrating one and then letting his poor minions attempt the hell he has unleashed.  “Shit Myself” guy falls – seriously y’all he fell down.  “Run For Your Life” girl drops her weights and looks like she might cry.

Me: my limbs are shaking violently and my “small weight” is now too heavy for me to lift with both hands.  I mutter with hatred between reps: You. Cheeky. Fucker….

TV: We are 40 minutes in, 20 left!

Me: blink blink

I seriously think I blacked out.  I can’t recall the last ten minutes.  The next part was on the ground.  I collapse to the floor like a sack of potatoes. I begin my whatever the hell move makes you balance on one elbow and part of your foot while doing all crazy stuff with your arm and other leg.

This is when my sweet, precious cat Daisy decides to need love.

Me: NO! Daisy no! Go – leave me alone!

Daisy: if she could talk: Bitch.  You look a fool doing this – just stop and pet me because I’m freakin adorable.

She proceeds to lay down under my one arm that is semi supporting my wobbly ass at the moment.  Then, she flipped over on her back to show me her furry little belly.

The next few moments were slow motion.  I lost concentration – I hit my knee pretty hard, Daisy held fast in her belly up pose and some how, I managed to miss her.  The moment I regain composure, she’s run off about her business again.  I continue on…

TV: Now – frog leaps…with weights!

Me: What holy hell is this?!?!

I frog leap, which I’ll admit looked more like dead frog jolted by a battery. Then, Daisy appears from nowhere and runs right under my feet.  I lose balance.  I fall like a tree – I hit hard and I have no capacity to stop myself because my appendages are currently gelatinous mounds of flesh thanks to TV man.  Weights flew from my hands and smacked the wall, my knees hit with enough force to completely numb my legs, which then made me scream something incoherent – I’m pretty sure it was profane, but lacked actual word formation. Daisy hisses and runs. I’m balled up in the floor, sweaty, teared up and wondering why I paid money to put myself through this torture.

I look at the screen hoping for redemption – for a chance that I’d made it to the end.  Nay.  I hear that bastard say, “Bring your best or stop now.  Ten minutes left. No excuses!!”

How about I can’t move!?!  The hell you say??  I’d rather wait half an hour for a cardio machine in January than do that ever again.

I crawled into the shower, regrouped and poured myself a glass of wine.

Damn you January Gym…..Damn you for showing me you are the boss.

Cheers. Ouch.

PS – Daisy is fine.  Me? I’ll let you know.