At the gym tonight, the only time all day that I got to "relax". Let me tell you, some of the people I work with are dumber than a box of hair. I love them dearly, but I often have to just count to ten and then let loose a big heavy sigh. I was on conference calls almost all day, about one report. One! I have clarified and sanctified this thing ten ways from Sunday...trying to make it make sense. To no avail. Sigh.
So at the gym, forgot my hand wraps, so therefore needed to buy some. Ten FUCKING Dollars. And I know they retail online (same brand) for about a third of that. But ya gotta do what ya gotta do. They stunk like the inside of (what I assume would smell like) a shipping container full of rotting fish and rats. Not pleasant. They need to be washed maybe 5 times not because they stink (well, that as well), but the dye they use have ruined many a pair of my white Garanimals.
While I was not stretching, as the trainer tonight has a propensity of not having us stretch in the first few minutes of class, opting instead for a healthy menu of squats and more squats, I noticed the gym's commitment to the Fight Against Breast Cancer.
I think it is great that they do this, and October is Susan G. Komen Month and all. But here is what the fliers said:. "Boxing for Boobs". I found this an odd choice of words. The word "boobs", when meant to refer to a part of the female anatomy, has always (at least I thought so) been taboo. I guess it is now all hip to say Boobs and Boobies. What's next? MMA for Munts?
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