another year, another gym membership

Fall is in the air and that can only mean one thing....time to purchase a gym membership. The latest gym just opened for business a few weeks ago. So it's clean, new, and uncrowded. The bad part of this gym is that the location is awful. It is located in a strip mall near the same intersection as Wal-Mart, Lowes, Kohls, Arbys, ect. I decided to go work out this afternoon at 5:15 pm and reduce my stress. Wrong time of day. By the time I finally arrived at the gym (about a mile and a half from my home) I had road rage and had already flipped the bird at some A.H. that dared honk his horn at me.

Every place I've lived since adulthood has included a gym membership, sometime more than one concurrently. I've had memberships at the YMCA, the YWCA, two racquetball clubs (one that went out of business abruptly even though I was winning my racquetball league), the recreational sports center at Moo U and the fitness center at the Indian Reservation where I used to work. I even had a membership for the past three years at a competing fitness club here in Non-Descriptville, USA until they annoyed me by changing ownership, selling off the racquetball facility, and then losing my membership information in their database.

If the weather would just stay like it was the day I took this picture, I would just continue to exercise outdoors.

sleepless in Central Indiana

It's 3 am and I'm wide awake. The events of the previous work day churn around in my mind, over and over and over. Problems loom larger than life at this time of the night. Should I look for a new job? Where do I even start to look? What will I do with the contents of my office? I don't have room at home to store the accumulated debris from the last four-plus years of working at this particular job. Maybe I should just go in to the office this weekend and start sorting out what to keep and what to toss out. Life has a way of building up tons of stuff that you have to either pitch (what if I need it later!) or store (this house is too small!) Decisions, decisions. I wish I could say that I'll sleep on it.

the joy of not cooking

The health coach called again on Monday. I had failed to achieve my goals (that she selected for me last time) of planning and cooking healthy meals. I tried to distract her with other topics, but she persisted. Had I cooked anything since last time we talked? I offered up excuses... the recipes were too difficult, our local grocery store didn't have all those ingredients, yada, yada, yada. She was not deterred. Do a Google search for "easy, low-fat recipes" she said. She is not going to be satisfied until I apply heat to food and not just to warm up left-over pizza either. How can I tell her I CAN'T COOK. Home Ec class back in Public School was a disaster. I exploded a blueberry pie in the oven. I added about 4 times too much salt to pancakes. In 8th grade, I didn't know how to use a can opener.