Sitting here, craving my next session of wall building, I realize I can’t get away from politics and the need to be physically active. With my pool closed, not enough to do around here. Really, I decide to build a wall and it becomes one of the touch tones of the election? That seems absurd.
After getting kicked out of the hot tub at Movati, with I admit a little fore thought. The woman who asked me to get out was very polite. She had been instructed that no one could sit in the hot tub while water aerobics were on. I was told it was because they felt me reading in the hot tub would disrupt the class. It was still humiliating though and I decided to not go back. Am I really that disruptive?
The gym was imbalancing my day. It absorbed my evening as it was. I’m not allowed to be in the hot tub while there are classes on, which fill all the primetime spots as it is. They were about to add more.
So I realized, what project do I want to do next? Pay for that instead of a gym. And I remembered woodworking. I took at week away, while the girls were young and elsewhere and learned cabinet making, right after I walked out.
That time when your heart has been ripped open and you have to rebuild from the inside out and further to heal the wound caused by the explosion, on the way out.
It came so naturally to me the instructor asked me to be less happy so as not to upset the other workers who were having difficulty. A modern day expression of never outshining the men in your life. Martha Stewart learned that the hard way. But I digress. I realized I’d come full circle from two totally different perspectives. When my heart broke open right after I left. I knew to take solace in it.
Now, because I recognize I want another home improvement type of project, perhaps one with wood. Fuck the gym.