I took 3 days off and somehow I feel worse now than I did last week. I suspect something’s up with my guts; I feel inflamed in my abdomen and my muscles are unhappy in a wonky-electrolytes way. And I slept very poorly last night. Is all that TMI? Long story short: I feel cruddy.
Anyway, I went to the gym this morning to do some lifting. I stuck to upper body and core stuff– bench, bicep curls, OHP, rows, lat pds, woodchops, assisted pullups/dips, and situps. It was plenty.
Last weekend a friend came to visit at the tail end of another trip, and her bag was filled to bursting (she said it weighed 51lb at the airport, but they mercifully didn’t charge her). On top of that, it was broken– the rubber case around one of the wheels had completely shredded so it wouldn’t roll. And I, being the strong person and excellent friend I am, carted this damn bag from the subway to the commuter train, up onto the train, off the train again and out to the car, and up a couple flights of stairs to get home. Yes, I complained about it the entire time (maybe next time she won’t pack so much crap/take a busted bag on vacation). But I’m glad I was capable of taking care of it.
Today I was in the locker room after my workout, doing step 2 of my 3-step routine (powder, mascara, spray stuff in hair and muss). Putting on mascara requires some concentration, and as I was staring at the mirror with my mouth open my coworker chuckles at me and says, "I didn’t know you were so fussy!" Really, this is what you call fussy? I think she’d fall over if she saw me doing a full face…