Zonksville, Virginia.

Wow. I'd tell you how tired I was, but I'm guessing that y'all are pretty tired, too. Everyone's got a million things going on, right? I know a woman who will call some of the most important people in my organization (i.e., me, my boss, and my boss' boss. hey- we're imPORtant!) and, once she's got us on the line, talk to us about how amazingly busy she is, how she can barely keep it together...and will only  maybe get around to the question or issue after a good, loooooong kvetch. 


Not felony-grade, certainly, but on a whack-a-mole day? I might dodge her calls. Just sayin'...everybody's busy. It's something that I often forget...that everyone I meet carries with them to-do lists and desires and good and bad vibes, and they enter into every email, phone call and conversation we have. And sometimes the difference in an interaction being friendly and productive or contentious is simply giving someone the benefit of the doubt...acknowledging that being gentle is the higher road, rather than being inflexible, making a point.

I promise, this is not a job rant. I think I spoke to all of 5 people today at work. And the interactions were perfectly lovely. (And - full disclosure - mostly dealt with the awesomeness of my shoes. They were pretty awesome.) But it's mostly to keep it in my head, as being more gentle and less reactionary is on my Life List. (Or, well, it totally would be if I had one.) Catchin' flies with honey, my babies.

So the reason that I'm tired. Tabata class. When I told my mom that I was taking a 'tabata' class at the gym she said "Wait, they're teaching you how to bake bread at the gym?" Yes, that shows you how seriously we take our carbs in my familiy...she thought I was taking a ciabatta class.

I love my mom.

It was basically an interval workout of things that you'd never really want to do unless someone was making you. Plank rows, jump squats, medicine ball jumping jacks...you pack as many into 20 seconds as you possibly can, and then wheeeeeze for 10 seconds. And you do it again. And again. 8 times. 6-8 different exercises. Should be a piece of cake, right? I mean, I can do ANYTHING for 20 seconds!

Let me tell you that 10 seconds gets shorter the longer the class goes on.

My ass? Has been kicked. Holy. Crap. My muscles are so warm, three hours post-workout, that I will probably be a lactic-acid cripple tomorrow. No cute shoes tomorrow, that's for sure. Flats. (Maybe even sneakers.)

A workout like that deMANDs an indulgent dinner, right? A glass of wine, cheese and crackers, and a piece of chocolate that's halfway between milk and dark, studded with sea salt and smoked almonds...fits the bill. Aaaahhh...Now all I need is for someone to carry me to bed. Because these legs? Punched the clock - they're off duty.

My five:
  1. Good dreams - my dreams last night were outstanding, and my day was all rosy colored because of them.
  2. Magnolia trees - there's a magenta one in my neighborhood that is so pretty it makes me want to cry.
  3. Going for a walk with wet hair, no makeup, comfy shoes and a large, slobbery dog.
  4. Being the recipient of multiple kindnesses.
  5. Looking forward to tomorrow.


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