A co-worker told me yesterday that I was too mean. That’s why I don’t “have a man.”
Several others agreed with her.
Apparently I’m one of those “people just aren’t sure how to take you” kinda chicks?
I think it’s more likely that things like this are the issue.
K-Rob thought threatening to send a pic of me tearing through a bag of Doritos to J-Vicious was gonna deter me?
What’s he gonna do? He’s already throwing two punching bags on me during wall sits. Two tires on my back during planks. I ain’t scared of him.
So I just doubled down. Shoving handful after handful into my face.
Until I realized that I wasn’t actually producing enough saliva to actually swallow the massive blob of dry corn meal that I was holding in my mouth.
My mouth was so full of Doritos that I didn’t even have room for beer to loosen things up.
I almost died.
And K-Rob just stood there photographing the event and making threats about future workouts.
And then apparently just let me sit there socializing with Doritos crumbs all over my face. Which I realized after I got home. Two hours later.
That’s where I am in life.
People don’t even bother to tell me I’ve got food all over my face.
Because I’ve often got food all over my face.
I didn’t even enjoy those Doritos.
It was about pride at that point.
I’ve got this trigger in my brain.
I don’t even know when it’s been flipped.
It just happens.
Yesterday another co-worker walked into my office, looked at my keyboard and said, “You don’t have a special F4 key, either.”
And so I pushed the F4 key that I clearly did have.
I don’t know what an F4 key does.
I mean, I do now. Because I pushed it. But I didn’t in the moment. For all I knew, it could have brought the entire Bedford County internet system down.
Which, really…would anyone actually notice?
He just stared at me for a second.
“So you just push the key? Why would you do that??”
Power of suggestion?
I don’t really know.
“Because I said you didn’t have one, and you needed to prove me wrong.”
Pride hasn’t served me well during most of my life.
But it is what gets me through strength interval runs with GJB.
Which is how we celebrated Finn’s Dad’s birthday yesterday.
It’s how we celebrate everyone’s birthday.
(Except mine, apparently. No one ran for my birthday. *sigh*)
But even when it’s 5,000,000 degrees outside and I’m blinded by the sweat pouring into my eyes and my legs are severely fatigued from J-Vicious’s leg day and all I want is some Doritos and beer, I will not let GJB just take off on me and win.
I will hand him my phone so he can capture new profile pics like this.
Very artistic, GJ. I look like a totally normal, pleasant, well-mannered lady here.
You can’t even tell that I’d peed my pants a little.
That happens when I laugh while running.
And I often laugh while running with these people.
But seriously. Finn’s Dad took off in a Michael Scott type sprint at the start of the run.
And GJB followed right behind him, Ace Ventura style.
So, really. How can I not pee my pants a little?
I’ll probably just keep my pride.
I’ve got these ridiculous people.