I think the treadmill is trying to break up with me. I mean, we’re not super close BFFs, but we hang out together on a pretty regular basis. That my have to change after the events of this week. First, I tripped on the (unbeknownst to me) moving treadmill and incurred some pretty rad scars on my knees. And today the stupid machine stopped on me while running. Not once, not twice but three times. How rude. After the second time it stopped on me, I informed the staff at the gym. They turned it on and, of course, it didn’t stop for them. I offered to run again, very slowly, as to not be thrown off the machine when it came to its inevitable screeching halt, and, of course, it wouldn’t shut off. I looked like a total lameo. Well, more lame than usual. After a minute of me running on a perfectly functioning treadmill the guy said to let him know if it happened again. I’m sure he rolled his eyes and referred to me as the crazy girl with the pig tails who cannot properly operate a treadmill, as he turned his back and went about his more important business. And, of course, as soon as he walked away, the machine quit on me.
Finally, they believed my story and put an ‘out of use’ sign on the broken machine; moments later I found myself on a different, much more well behaved treadmill.
But still, I wonder if there is some hidden message in all of this. Maybe the treadmill wants a break and was trying to deliver the news to me gently? Although, there is nothing gentle about the
road treadmill rash I have on my knees. Also, I’m pretty sure lurching to a dead stop while someone is running isn’t very gentle either. Hmmm.
So, that’s my exciting story. Otherwise, I have nothing else to report. I helped cut out silhouette pictures at school today, in preparation for next week’s Colonial Day festivities. And now I’m home. I really need to finish decorating my Christmas tree, because I only have 15 ornaments on it right now, but I’m having trouble getting excited to do it. I love my tree and all the ornaments, but getting them spaced correctly and in desirable fashion is a tad bit stressful. I realize Christmas tree decorating and stress do not belong in the same sentence EVER, but I tend to make even the most enjoyable situations full of stress and anxiety. It’s my gift. You’re welcome.
Anyway, this is lame. Yesterday I stared at the blog for a long while, hoping I’d be filled with sudden inspiration, but the only thing I could think of was to tell you that Caroline’s basketball practice is being held from 7-8:30 on Wednesday nights. Yep, that’s it. Wednesday nights from 7-8:30 is a terrible time to conduct basketball practice, but that’s the only slot the coach could get. I don’t know what’s worse, the fact that I only have THAT to tell you or the fact that I’m mostly annoyed with the late practice time because I’m usually in my jammies at 7pm.
Such an exciting life I lead.
Don’t worry though, tomorrow I’m going grocery shopping and to pick up my race packet for the Hot Chocolate 15k on Saturday. I’m sure I’ll have plenty of wild stories to share with you about my rendezvous with the produce aisle.