Oh yes.
I did it.
I can hardly believe it myself.
Bought a car, you ask?
Alas, the plus-size Ferrari is not yet available.
Bought a tank of gas for less than $46, you ask?
What magical thinking you possess.
Finally conquered the world? Found rubber gloves on sale? Found a part-time job with full-time pay?
No, not quite yet.
I went back to water aerobics. I've been talking about it and thinking about it for what seems like forever. I think it was the first time I attended class in months. Okay, only two months, but still, months. I really felt that absence for the first few minutes of class. It was like my body had never been submerged in water before. I was flutter-kicking and jumping and stroking (tee hee) and about half an hour into class, the world began to make sense. I didn't experience an endolphin* rush, per se, but I really became a part of the class once my seemingly-dormant self woke up. I didn't turn into Kiki the Cheerleader, but I was certainly happy to be exercising and taking care of myself instead of sitting at home, watching more TV. I was rather smug on the way home. I passed by people walking and riding their bikes and I thought, "I too have exercised" instead of feeling guilty and slinking down in my cushy, leather seat while cranking up the A.C.
Maybe this news doesn't have the impact that I was leading up to. That's okay. I feel jubilant today, so nothing else really matters. In fact, I woke up an hour before my alarm was due to go off. I'd forgotten that happens when I exercise. I'd forgotten how much easier it is to get up in the morning when my blood is pumping anew and my eyeballs feel all shiny. I’m a wee bit sore, but mostly in a good way. I didn’t leave the house this morning feeling like Jabba the Hut, which is a definite improvement and I’m already looking forward to tonight’s class. It’ll be at the Y’s outdoor pool, which means I get to wear my smoky grey shades while I’m flutter-kicking and buoying and bouncing and feeling good in my skin again. Oh yes: I will be Just That Cool. I’m also trying to convince my dad to go with me.
=+=+=+=
On the Freaky Front, The Date, whom I hadn’t mentioned in my blog for weeks until yesterday, called me last night, completely out of the blue, at 10:30 PM. We talked for awhile and I laughed at her jokes and realized just how deeply insecure she is. She actually spent a good deal of the conversation telling me about an awful date she’d recently been on and I gotta say … I laughed because her story was funny, but also because I felt like Date Karma was giving me a high-five. She casually mentioned that maybe we could go out for coffee or a bite to eat and said that we wouldn’t call it a date since she sucks at those. At that point, I agreed with her, to which she replied, “Ouch.” Hey, only one dig from a Scorpio during an hour-long conversation is a good thing. Those who know my sign well should now applaud my mastery of self-control. She mentioned going out again a couple times and I oh-so-casually said, “Sure … give me a call.” Translation: we’re never going out. I was done chasing her a few months ago. If she wants to chase me, that’s fine. I ~might~ just answer the phone next time she calls.
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* Totally funny if you've seen "Postcards from the Edge." If not, well, I just sound stupid.
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