Last week, I gave myself a black eye with my phone handset at work. Ouch! I was on the phone with a coworker (who I now tell everyone he gave me the black eye, since I was talking to him). The cord was tangled up: I gave it a sharp tug...and clocked myself in the eye. OUCH!!
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| I literally saw stars. |
Yesterday, while perfecting my new lifestyle as a gym rat, I somehow snapped my jaw. Without making any contact whatsoever with anything. Just opening my mouth, straining at some new weight I was lifting, and I heard an audible snap of my jaw. Today, it still hurts like a sumbitch. And that's a lot. :)
But there are other ways I bully myself, and they were a subject of conversation at my Massage/Therapy session yesterday. (My massage therapist knows all my dirt. He should charge me one copay for massage and one for counseling services, haha.) I was recapping for him "that night" with Greg, when I got up and left at 11pm to go home. And I was telling him how *MAD* I was at Greg, but when I revisited the evening later, I couldn't really think of anything inappropriate he had said.
I gave B, my massage therapist, my self-diagnosis. If I feel badly about what I'm doing - it is very easy for you to make me feel badly about it, too. If I feel good about what I am doing, I can tell you to go take a hike if you don't like it. :) Clearly, I haven't been feeling good about what I've been doing.
Thus, the newfound gym rat status. I hope that sticks. I'm a little nervous, because Monday was a rest day, and today will be a rest day (I'm going to Greg's tonight). Tomorrow, I am skipping drinks with the girls so I can go home and take Alli to the gym. Then Friday, back to Greg's, come home Saturday night. Bowling with the girls on Sunday.
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