I’m back to report I’m barely alive after my workout sesh with Annie get your roll on Wednesday night. Fat people might be fat but they know how to boss people around, she had me jumping, laying on some giant ball like a retard, balancing on some half ball, I mean stuff I would never even think to do at a gym. Every single inch of my body is sore to the point where it hurts me to text or even breathe. Honestly, my favorite part were the stretches at the end of the workout, because I got to be lazy. I didn’t have to hoist my foot over my head, Annie get your roll on did all the work for me and it felt awesome.
So after death by exercising Annie get your roll on took me to meet her boss, Dave. Dave sat me down and explained all of the different training packages Bally’s offers and even gave me a little tutorial on how they rank trainers versus the rate they charge. Basically, the ones that suck get $45 a session, the ok ones get $55, the mediocre ones get $65, the good ones get $75, and the ones that will make you want to die get $85. Annie get your roll on is in the mediocre section and they recommended I come twice a week. You do the math. I want to look good for beach season and all but I’m sorry I do not have an extra $600 a month lying around to pay to Annie get your roll on so she can shove twinkies in her face while she tells me how to get skinny, I mean I don’t need to lose weight, I could stand to tone up a little but I was thinking I could do this once or twice learn a few things and then go out on my own and get my beach bod. Annie get your roll on and boss Dave insist I’ll get lazy and won’t push myself like Annie get your roll on will. True, but I don’t care. $600 a month could be my payment on 2 new cars yet I barely have 1. Not happening.
Not wanting to be rude I told Annie get your roll on and Dave I’d have to go home and fiddle with my budget to see what I could afford (hint: nothing) and I’d let them know. Dave insisted Annie get your roll on do a free follow up session with me next Wednesday. I’m not going to say no to free advise but I’m still not paying $600 a month. Eff this noise, Gizzy out.
So I came home and complained to the guys about how I was going to be crawling up the stairs and how they should split the sessions with me so we could all get beach bods together, that was a no go, so I retreated to the shower.
I’m just going to say this once and be done with it, adjustable shower heads are the devil. The devil I tell you. Anth and Doogie point ours way far up because they’re all tall and stuff and never move it back down to where it belongs for poor little wimpy Gizzy. Already having the strength of an infant from the workout sesh I turn on the shower get ready to hop in, put my hand on the back wall and the next thing I know I’m eye to eye with the drain, the lower half of my body is in the toilet, I’m seeing stars and I can feel the left side of my face beginning to swell.
So now I have a black eye and I had pretty much the most important meeting of my life today with our biggest client. I covered it up as well as I could but the swelling was what brought the most attention out of everything. I thought everyone would get a big kick out of me falling in the shower and getting a black eye out of it but no one really asked how it happened. People just made comments about bar fights, calling me Mike Tyson, and the zinger from our client, “Who put the girl with the black eye in charge of the 150 million dollar account?” My boss pretty much just ignored all the comments while I hid my face in shame, so I’m hoping they all just think I’m a victim of domestic abuse and don’t want to make me feel uncomfortable so we can just sweep this under the rug and I can come in Monday fresh as a clam.
I decided to go to Target after work to see what kind of winners I could pick up with my new shiners/get some workout friendly materials. Imagine my surprise after the stellar 2 days I’ve had when I roll up to the checkout with my items and the clerk starts judging my purchases out loud.
Clerk: How old is your kid?
Clerk: You’re buying gummy vitamins and spaghettios, you don’t have a kid?
Me: Ummm, nooo those are for me.
Clerk: Oh, you know gummy vitamins are for kids right?
Me: Uhhh says who? And why are you looking through my things, ring them up I need to get out of here.
Clerk: Laxatives are so bad for you.
Me: Do you have a supervisor or can I just punch you in the face for being a cunty whore right now?
Clerk: I mean I’m just saying.
Me: Give me my bag.
Clerk: Have a nice day!
Me: How about you DON’T! Whore.
So yeah, maybe I was buying gummy vitamins and laxatives but I’m trying to cleanse my body so I can start fresh and why buy vitamins you have to swallow when the gummy ones are just as good and taste better? Of course they were already opened when I got home so I have to take them back. It was probably that skanky skank clerk trying to poison me. But still, gummys > swalllow kind.
Well, time to go thaw out some steak for my face.