geeze, louise...

the best part about valentine's day 2007 (which i lovingly refer to as "the ides of february", as i cast scornful glances at any and everything to do with being happy, except for those of you i know and love, of course) is that it was the day before pay day. yipee. i'm about to make my second mortgage payment. i can actually feel the home equity building. it's fairly amazing.

this week has been interesting. everyone on staff here took a personality sorter, and we spent 5 hours digesting our diagnostics as a group on monday. what can i say about sitting in a room for 5 hours with my co-workers, while we all get emotionally naked, and the phone rings off the hook in the back ground, while i'm just wondering if you can, in fact, o.d. on church coffee...

so, i escaped to the relative safety of the gym. i say relative safety for two reasons-- i can never feel totally safe around that many muscle-bound men in very small shirts, and the fact that a lot of journey and guns-n-roses get blasted over the sound system make it hard to really relax during the work out. let me tell you more... caro and moo will have to forgive me for repeating myself...

so it's monday night, and all i want to do is decompress from being cooped up all day, and i walked into the gym, and i came face to face with a man on the butterfly machine who looked like he was either being scared half to death by invisible imps, or having the most mind-blowing orgasm known to human kind. it was a little disconcerting.

then, while i was sweating like a clydesdale on the exer-bike, which is next to the weight pit, i heard what i imagine a man delivering a baby through his pee-hole might sound like. it was this horrible, very loud, very gutteral, very disturbing series of grunts, followed by some loud muttering that i couldn't quite understand (maybe if the cave-men from the geico commercials had been there, they could have translated for me...), but probably went something like "who's yer daddy now, weight room bitches?"

said ruckus was loud and distracting enough to pull me away from reading the closed captions of the o'reilley factor(which makes me peddle faster, and which i was having to squint to read, since i left my reading glasses at home...who the hell takes their reading glasses with them to the gym, besides me?), which was playing on the big tv in front of the bikes. i expected the sound to be followed by a pool of blood seeping quietly over the floor, the screams of someone being hit in the face by exploding testicles, or the sickening thud of detached arms hitting the plastic mat. instead, the woman riding next to me gave me a raised eye brow, to which i responded (seriously, i can't believe i said this...) "Good God Almighty, what in the world is that all about?" kind of boring, huh? and then, i decided to skip swimming laps because when i got back to the locker room, and older and moderately gigantic woman was just sitting in front of my locker section totally topless, like she had nothing better to do that be topless in front of the entire free world.

the week has pretty much been on par with the monday experience, so in the interest of time and good manners, i'll spare you the rest. but i'm sure your imaginations can run wild...

mil besos--rmg