* 8am, Sidewalk - three layers, frozen hands, a happy pup, brisk pace, not a bad start to what should be a relaxed day at work, productive evening
* 9am, Walk-in Closet - standing in front of the mirror, repeatedly turning around and bending over, contemplating whether to wear underwear with these pants, realization that even thinking about not wearing underwear is a sign NOT to wear pants altogether, ignore realization and opt for light blue Hanky Pankys because hatred of all other pants and winter weather trumps rational fashion thinking
* 930am, Front Foyer of Office - jumping and pumping fists in jubilation, Girl Scout cookies are here!
* 145pm, Local Fugly Dress Shop - drowning in teal and hot pink polyester/satin blends, bedazzler overload, the ugliest formal dresses you have ever seen, seriously circa 1994 style, cannot suppress laughter with co-worker and run in a fit of giggles out the door before staff offers to help (*may* have gone into shop specifically for this purpose)
* 155pm, Interior of Magic Car Wash - sitting inside car as the machines lather and rinse, surrounding me with whooshes and waterfalls, sometimes dreams do come true
* 523pm, Yoga Mat - legs lifting, heels beating, glutes burning, damn the Pilates side series and this instructor
* 615pm, Stationary Bike - beads of sweat running down face, last two minutes of spinning class, eyes focused on the orange glow of the stereo power button, breathing like I am in labor, glutes still burning, empowerment
* 705pm, Driver's Seat of Car - sitting in driveway, surrounded by darkness and silence, face in hands, sobbing, sometimes one phone call can do that to a girl
* 750pm, Kitchen - wet hair, fugly comfy sweatshirt, forcing the mixer through the batter, friends need to be thanked for kind gestures, no matter what phone calls bring
* 830pm, Stovetop - warm cookies removed from the oven, chocolate melting on the pan, may be emotional basketcase, but still make near-perfect cookies, damn it.
* 915pm, Dining Room - "Walk it Out" blaring from the iPod dock, cookies nestled on the cooling rack, dancing and bootyshaking, Masala jumping up and down bootyshaking, too!, even phone calls can be overcome
6 comments:
Poor Nik. Cookies will make it all better...and Masala, too. Hugs, dearest, hugs.
I want cookies and more so, I want dancing to "Walk it Out." I feel your evening -- hence the email I just sent you. At least we're together in this. . .love ya!
Thanks, ladies! Cookies did make it feel better, but for the love of my butt in those tight pants this morning, most of the goods are being donated tomorrow to a friend who did me a solid with some Friday Night Lights videos.
Red - you can dance to "Walk it Out" anytime. Just download it on iTunes for 99 cents, then hit play. Instant pick me up because if nothing else it will take you back to dancing outside our apartment door in the sketchy outdoor hallway place.
Or you can come to my kickboxing class; we do leg work to it sometimes. That's the only way I know any current music, honestly.
Mmm, cookies. I was thinking I still needed some coaching on my cookie making skills, they still aren't as fabulous as yours. . they seem melty and sugary with thin edges. Not quite the right doughy gooeyness with chewy edges and awesome settling centers. *sigh.
I'm sorry about the phone call. I can totally see you in your car crying and it makes me sad. I hope you do fully overcome it.
My sweet girl. Hope the cookies and the puppy dog (and walk it out!) helped your mood a little.
:( Sorry you had a bad evening, but I'm glad you had the perfect tools to make it better!
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