Best Workout Ever

Last week, Emily mentioned that she had a secret dream. She had always hoped that I would come to pick her up for our morning workout, and instead of going to the gym, we would throw caution to the wind, take the day off from lifting and head out for breakfast.

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I am oncall for work this week. Last night, shit went down. A job was failing and blah blah blah blah. I was logged on for a few evening hours and after it looked like things were running smoothly, I logged off. I went to bed just before midnight...a little later than I would have liked, but what can you do. I fell into bed in an exhausted heap. My. Body. Was. Tired.

At approximately 12:06, the job failed again. Gah. At least I wasn't asleep yet. I crawled out of bed, got things working again, and was finally able to go to bed...for real.

I woke up at 1:25 to the delightful sound of my phone ringing. The job had failed again. Faaaaaaaak. I hopped on the "SWAT call" and it was decided that we should just restart the jobs...yet again. I was up for about an hour...just long enough to make it hard to fall asleep again. I? Love my job.

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This morning, I groggily woke up at 5:30. Emily and I decided that today would be our cardio morning, so we were going to hit the 6am spin class.

I picked up Emily and we bitched about work (she was also involved in last night's drama - have I mentioned that Em and I work together? No? Well, Em and I work together). She said she was half expecting (and perhaps hoping) that I would bail on today's workout.

We got to the gym and the class was PACKED. The instructor informed us that there was only one bike left.

Crap.

What's a girl to do? Head back downstairs for some lifting? Hop on a treadmill? Do our own spin class on a bike in the gym's cardio area?

No. None of those things.

We made Emily's dream come true. We left the gym, went to Caribou, grabbed coffee and breakfast and chatted.

It was the Best Workout Ever.

Lucky

Earlier this week, I came into my cube at my office and found two shoots of Lucky Bamboo propped up against my computer.

I used to have three shoots and they were big and tall and glorious...but they kicked the bucket when we moved to a new office building earlier this year. Sad.

So I was elated to find that my stock had been replenished. They were a gift from a former mentor. Awwwww...So sweet.

The next day, I got offered a new position at work - one that I've been wanting for over a year. YAY!!

This bamboo? Yup. Definitely lucky.

My oversharing: Let me share it with you

I was just thinking to myself..."Man, I wish I could blog about something other than running, but nothing exciting is happening in my life." And then a bolt of lightning burst from the sky and hit me in the face.

Only kidding.

I was hit on by a guy at work.

And crap, now that I type it out, it doesn't sound that exciting. Feel free to skip this post. Hell, even I'm already tired of reading about this event. But that's not going to stop me from writing about it, apparently.

Anyway.

So normally, yay! Getting hit on is fun! It boosts the self esteem! Makes you feel pretty!

But getting hit on at work? That's a whole 'nother story. From the top:

I like the people I work with. They're fun. We joke around. We go to happy hours. We have inside jokes. We play pranks. We know what's going on in each others lives.

So it was no surprise when one of the guys started talking to me about running. I'm kind of like a yappy four-year-old that loves to shout about her new Barbie...but I like to shout about my long runs. Hey, did I mention I ran 18 miles last weekend?

But I digress.

The Guy said he would never be able to run a marathon...he was too old and his body couldn't handle it and excuse, excuse, excuse. He's in his late 30s. He's in good shape. So I called his bluff. I told him it was a mental game. If he wanted to run a marathon, he just had to tell himself that he could. And put in the miles, of course.

And over the next two weeks, he would stop by...talk about how he ran two or three miles, and I would encourage him to keep up the good work.

And he stopped by more. And more. And more. I think he stopped by six times on Tuesday. Dude. Don't you have work to do?? But it didn't faze me. When I get excited about running, I want to talk about it too. So I was understanding. Until yesterday.

I was filling up my water bottle at the cooler, and he flagged me down. To tell me that he thought he was "starting to like me a little too much."

Waaaaaait just one second. He what? Whaaaa? Why? How? GAH.

I raised my eyebrow, looked him straight in the eye, and said "Then you'd better stop". I'm not one to BS. I cut to the chase. I don't like to lead people on. My feelings for this fella are strictly platonic. No attraction. None.

What would I do if I laid it out there..and was promply shot down? I would cut my losses and drop the issue.

But not this guy. He Kept Asking Me About It. DUDE. I JUST told you that you'd better stop liking me. Do you need me to say it again?? (Apparently so) I dashed back to my cube and he was hot on my heels, asking why he shouldn't like me. I heard my phone ringing and made a mad dash to answer it. And He Stood There While I Talked. I kept waving him away, saying we'd talk later, but he didn't budge. DUDE. GET THE HINT.

The call finally ended, he got in his last two cents, and finally left. And I haven't seen him since.

My problems with this situation:

1) Does this mean we're not friends anymore?? I am officially being avoided. Okay, okay...I don't know what I'd say if he stopped by anyway. Maybe the avoiding thing is a good idea.

2) But who brings this crap up AT WORK? In The Office?? This place is a gossip mill (Yet I have no problem posting the nitty gritty on my blog. Hypocrite, table for one).

3) Why couldn't you bring this up after I've had a few beers? I don't like dealing with this akwardness sober.

Annnnd that's all. I'm sure things will be fine in the end...I just have to suck it up and deal with a few days of akwardness.

</End weak attempt at not blogging about running. Note to self: Only Blog About Running>

Not the point

I was having another crappy day at work when I spotted it. The perfect stress reliever. My salvation.

Sitting on a coworkers desk was...bubble wrap. The kind with the Big Fat Bubbles. The Big Fat Bubbles that have such a satisfying "pop" when squeezed.

I walked over and popped one of the bubbles. And it Felt Good.

And so he graciously gave me a square so I could pop away. Why is it that popping bubble wrap feels so damn good??

A few hours later, I looked over at his desk and he was popping bubbles. With a pin.

WITH A PIN!!

There is no satiating squeeze when you pop a bubble with a pin. There is no gratifying "POP" when you use a pin.

The bubble deflates slowly...just like the morale at a job that is slowly sucking the life force from your body.

Virtual Bubblewrap © www.virtual-bubblewrap.com
virtual-bubblewrap-distv1.1

For your popping pleasure...

Welcome To My Hell

It is 3:27am.

And I'm working.

I must have done some baaad shit - karma is kicking my ass.


Today I am feeling _______


... like quitting my job