Tag Archives: #amexercizing

More reasons I’m not fit to walk around unattended…

Yesterday I shared my embarrassing shirt backward moment. Here’s today’s equally as mortifying event that happened just yesterday morning.

You all know I go to Planet Fitness because sitting all day and writing will tend to increase the ass size proportionately to the amount of time you sit. I sit 8-10 hours per day. Yeah…My butt has gotten huge these past 2 years!

Anyway. Planet Fitness.

I put all my non-gym stuff in the locker ( purse, phone, glasses), locked the locker with the lock I bring with me – key operated ( no combination because..you know…menopause memory) and proceeded to the gym-proper for an hour. When I was done and I went back into the locker room, for some strange reason my lock wouldn’t open. I swear I grappled with the damn lock and key for 10 minutes, cursing and sweating. I really didn’t want to have to have the staff bolt cut the damn thing open. There were several women in the locker room changing and one asked if she could help. I gave her the key and she couldn’t get the damn thing opened either. She asked if I was sure it was the correct locker. I’m dumb at times but not stupid. Of course it was  my locker, I told her. She shrugged and suggested getting the staff to cut it open, that the lock must have somehow broken.

To calm myself down I stepped back and sat down on the bench for a  minute to catch my breath and figure out what to do. While I was relaxing ( not!) another gymite came into the room, proceeded to go straight to my locker, stuck in her key, and opened it.

Yeah. I was at the wrong locker. The locks looked identical but my locker was #43. The one I’d been trying to open was # 34.

So let’s add some dyslexia to the list of menopause maladies I now possess.

#FML. For those of you who know what that hastag means, yeah…

When I’m not being stupid you can find me here:

Tweet Me//Read Me// Visit Me//Picture Me//Pin Me//Friend Me//Google+Me// Triberr

 

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On why I need a keeper…or at least a dresser.

True story.

Yesterday, hubman and I went to early Mass. Usually, we go to the 4 pm Mass Saturdays because we both like to relax on Sunday mornings, but this Saturday we were both busy so we missed the 4.

After Mass we’d planned on going to the gym together. When I typically go to the gym, I leave my house in my workout clothes because I don’t like to change in open changing rooms. Body issues come in all ages, folks, even in successful, intelligent, chubby menopausal women.

Anyway.

Since we were going to Mass first, I couldn’t wear my workout clothes. If you are Catholic you know why. If you are not Catholic just accept it as a fact that I couldn’t go in anything other than Church-clothes, and leave it at that.

I wore nice clothes to the Mass and then planned on changing – in the bathroom(!) when we got to the gym.

Here’s the part of this story that tells you the reason for the title.

When I went to take my blouse off in the bathroom at the gym ( body issues, remember?) I realized I had my blouse on backward. The back of it was in the front. How did I know this? The tag was sitting right under my chin line. All during Mass I felt like the shirt was tight, as if it had shrunken in the dryer or something. Nope. Fit is fine. Wearing it backward will make it seem like it’s tight, though, because there is more material in the front for….proturberances ( read, breasts!) and the back is flatter.

Yeah…I know. 57 years old and I can’t dress myself.

Seriously, I need a keeper or at least someone who can dress me appropriately for when I go out in public.

When I’m not making a fool of myself and wearing my clothes incorrectly, you can find me here: Tweet Me//Read Me// Visit Me//Picture Me//Pin Me//Friend Me//Google+Me// Triberr

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