I was getting ready for work yesterday and had a very in-pants experience. Let me expound on that – my pants did not fit – major expansion. This is not too much of a surprise because just the other day I thought it would be fun to weigh myself on a scale I found at work. I don’t own a scale, so, for me, doing something like this is a lot like going to an amusement park or a roadside gas station and paying to have a person or machine tell me my weight. Unfortunately, this weighing at work experience was not as positive as I thought it would be. I grabbed a coworker who is confident with his weight and had him hop on the scale. He informed me it was spot on and I should have cleared my weight before asking him to do so. I started patting all my bits (wobbly included) and saying, “Where is this new weight?” He replied, “I can tell you where it isn’t” and then tapped his “brain.” I replied, “Must be the pregnancy,” and immediately returned to my chair for more expanding.
Later in the day I received a request for an on-camera interview. I asked the reporter, “Could you do a Barbra Streisand for me and only film my good side? I noticed a little extra junk in my trunk this morning and I don’t really think anyone wants to see it. I know I didn’t.” He agreed, but(t) towards the end of the interview the camera man filmed my end. Great.
No need to fret, however, because OregganO and I had plans to run as soon as I finished work. I arrived home to find OregganO waiting for me, donned in workout gear, on my stoop. No getting out of this exercise. We ran/walked almost a mile before running into my neighbor and his coworker. They were walking his dog, wine in hand. I commented, “Well, this is weird. Me working out and you drinking. Seems a bit reversed.” He suggested I finish my run and join them for drinks. Luckily, OregganO was there to keep me on task, “Had I not been there you would have quit running right then,” she later told me. She’s right. It’s not about the drink. It’s about the run. I reminded her, “Running is bad for your knees.” “Funny,” she said. “Drinking is bad for your living and that hasn’t stopped you.” She may be right, but you can’t see my liver. My knees, however……