Yesterday I went to the gym, which I'm doing a lot, lately.
Ordinarily, I share the space with two or three people who are also there to get their workout done in a timely and fairly quiet way. Yesterday, this was not the case.
Instead, I shared the space with a woman and her daughter. I know they were mother and daughter because, despite my earbuds being firmly planted into my ear canals with the volume on my iPod cranked to high; I could still hear the woman screeching in the most annoying manner possible.
In addition to the volume at which she was carrying on a very animated conversation with her kid, she was literally bouncing on the treadmill next to me. Bouncing, people.
I don't know about you, but I tend to get a little tripped up on the treadmill when the person in my peripheral vision is leaping about like a gazelle on the African tundra; especially when said leaping is accompanied by a conversation held at rock concert levels. And, I'm not proud to say it, but; I totally contemplated throat punching the bitch.
I didn't do it, of course; my Momma raised a lady. But. Totally envisioned it in my head and felt just the slightest bit of consolation at the thought.
I'm headed back to the gym today and you can bet that my fingers are crossed for a nice, quiet hour on the equipment. Because, frankly, I'm not sure I could resist my more violent urges twice.
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