That's what I told my head as I was getting ready to go to the gym.
"I need the gym. YOU need the gym. You think you're sick now? If I don't get to the gym your physical problems will be nothing compared to your mental ones." That's what I told my head too.
The 'gym' was actually the club house where my sister lives. It's one minute away and I was too lazy to drive any farther. I had my ipod, the latest People magazine, and a water battle. I was ready for that treadmill.
Except that sometime in the last few months they've changed the key to the club house, and I couldn't get in.
Looks like my head won.
When Jason got home a few minutes after I did he said, "You didn't go to the gym?"
I told him that it was his responsibility as my husband to go for a walk with me.
Never mind that it was dark - and freezing cold - literally.
He said he would go with me if I would go with him to Golden Corral for dinner.
That husband of mine, he's a fan of buffets.
I pulled out my bag full of gloves, scarves, and hats and bundled up.
"Can I wear a hat?" Jason asked.
"Yes, but they're all really girly."
He didn't seem to mind.
It's not right...the way he can make a girly hat look good.
Here's what Jason ate at Golden Corral:
chicken pot pie
Maybe his body needed the protein.
As I was turning away from the salad bar I nearly got knocked over by a very large man.
A very large black man from Mississippi.
(Are you going to get offended because I didn't use African American? I'm never sure what to say.)
The very large, good looking man from Mississippi was there with his entire basketball team.
Trust me when I say they made an entrance.
I couldn't stop looking.
They were all so big...and tall...and good looking.
Dear Jason - what, they were good looking, you don't want me to lie do you?
I wanted to change out of my gym clothes but Jason assured me that sweats were okay to wear to Golden Corral. He was right. I fit right in.
I had a maddening appointment with my Ear, Nose, & Throat specialist yesterday.
Thus the shortest post in history.
I wasn't in the mood to be nice- and I would hate for someone to remind me of the name of my blog...
The doctor made it more than clear that I wasn't high on his list of priorities - and that my concerns were of no importance to him.
I've never felt so ... I need a word ... dismissed? Maybe that's the word.
As he was hurrying out of the room I asked, "At the very least, would you please give me a prescription for the medicine that saves my life on a regular basis?"
Would you like to know why?
"It doesn't do anything except mask the symptoms."
Considering that he had just told me that there wasn't anything he could or would do for me, masking my symptoms didn't seem that bad.
I left the office in tears.
Dignified aren't I?
I called my family doctor on the way back to work.
I had a refill of my medicine within the hour.
I'm hoping the cardiologist has a better bed-side manner.
And that he will at least let me finish my thought before he cuts me off and gets up and leaves the room.
And now this is the longest post in history.
If you're still reading -
I was in charge of dessert on Sunday.
I was lazy.
I made chocolate pudding and sugar cookies.
My brother-in-law suggested that I should be chopped.
6-year-old Gabi didn't agree.
"Daddy, we are not going to chop her. She's not chopped AND she gets the $10,000.00.)
Remind me to keep her on my side.