Rest and exasperation

I'm technically on holiday. One week away from the 9-to-5. Except the 9-to-5 is a temporary gig and our sweet, sweet (paid) time together is ticking away.

This is no time to vay-k. Though I'm happy to give it the ol' college try.

Today I swapped my 6 a.m. gym time for a leisurely 9 a.m. ooze out of bed and into the kitchen. After a night of intense drowning, running, trapped-in-small-spaces dreams I was eager to be awake with some conscious thoughts.

By noon I was at the gym taking a mid-day class. Yes, they have these. Who ARE these people who take these things? But I tell you my class was PACKed. A few were sneaking out of work for an extended lunch, others...well...who was I to question? The class was led my some sort of pocket-sized She-Man between the ages of 19 and 57 complete with a wicked Boston accent.

"OH-vah"

"OH-vah"

"OH-vah"

She screamed into her Evangelical microphone.

It took me three tries to figure out where she wanted my arm to go and when.

While She-Man screamed "just eight mower" at the class I sneaked a rest and got a glare from the bendi-grandma in the back.

No, I think I'll go back to worrying over jobs on the couch.