Socks

So..

I did it. I went to work out again. It turns out it was more a mental than a physical battle.
Firstly,.. what the hell happened? How come it’s dark at four pm all of a sudden? Did I miss something?
Well, I guess I did. Taking about three weeks out of work means you don’t know at what point of your workday they decide to turn the lights off..

Seriously! And it doesn’t even get light enough for my body to realize we’re out of sleep mode. If it weren’t for my ‘Go-Lite’ lamp and huge amounts of coffee, I wouldn’t be able to keep my body from giving up and going into hibernation altogether.

Anyway, about the workout, Crazy Steps Lady was teaching the class and she had the unholy idea that it would be ‘fun’ to use the ‘steps’ (the little platforms you can step on…and off of). She reassured us that ‘hardy anyone ever falls off ’. Sure.

Whilst I was trying to keep up with the impossible arm/leg choreographies Crazy Steps Lady had dreamt up, I found myself battering myself with the most unproductive thoughts. Apart from the regular ‘the other girl is more skinny and doing better at this than I am’ kind of thoughts, I found myself worrying about.. get this..  My Socks.

I was worrying my socks would look silly..

Somebody once said: ‘ L’enfer ce sont les autres ’   (I guess he was French).
Well.. Apparently I don’t need anybody else; I can do that all by myself.

ugh