chapter twelve: double x x

forgive me lord for i have sinned. "gems, did you just go to sleep without blogging?" yes, i un-blogged. so i regretfully acknowledge that i am a bad person, and will do ab jam... twice. i have a lot of ground i have to cover in the next blog, as yesterday turned into a little bit of a guns show.

i set out to work as per usual, except this time it was better. mama kirst, big al, sniffles and myself (i want boldface) decided today would be a good day to play gym. so half ten, i packed my little bag, and shipped myself over the cambie bridge. this was spontaneous, contagious, outrageous, and another 'ous' word i don't even know. we coordinated a workout and all played like big kids. i'd say 3/4 of us are pretty much still toddlers. 60% of the time, sniffles is professional every time. big al took over, which he promised he wouldn't, mostly because he has control issues. because they were late (ahem mama and sniffles) we didn't get going until 11:15, so we had to make it a quickie. nothing like a pre-lunch quickie.

back again to my lovely little work, with my post-exxercise glow. i finished up my day, packed my little bag, and shipped myself over the cambie bridge... again! yes, i am double dipping. headed in for round two of EJx. ahh, this is the good life. i also saw junior gong for the second time. he stared at me dead in the eyes, with a "you're going to over-do it young grasshopper" look in his eyes. i'm in trouble. i've been ordered the week off running, and now i'm not allowed impact either. jeez louise. this means no speed walking on the treadmill (damn), no playing on the steps (crap), and definitely no jumping around on the bosu (rats). these are a few of my favourite things. so, you ask me "excuse me gems, what is left for you to play with?" yeah, that's right. the bike.

whilst everyone was doing their delicious bosu-ey things, i was literally on time out in the corner. just me and my coffin. not to mention that i had to do up the foot straps so tight, to make sure i wasn't sliding around. all to not irritate my calves. these things that once were a safety harness, were now straps-o-death. chaining me to my coffin. all above 110rpm. icky.

friday nights are fun. everyones feeling good that the weekend is here, acting a little crazy. and living in canada, we can't have guns here. we're going to have to pack a new kind of heat. so we bust out our best dance moves on fridays, because we can.