Improvements and Ironies
Yesterday did improve a bit. No, I mean, it improved a lot, and my mental state did, too. I got the job that I interviewed for last week and am elated and excited and ecstatic and all of those 'e' adjectives. I think I am going to be much happier having a professional life to juggle. Not that I'm not happy now...but obviously, something feels lacking or open if I went to the interview and got my hopes up the way that I did. So I'm going to do it.
I went to Boot Camp last night, too, and that was an awesome frustration-blaster. I was struck by something ironic, or something, though, when I pulled into the gym parking lot. It's a parking lot jointly shared between the gym and Fuddruckers. While I'm not a huge fan of Fuddruckers, there's something absolutely torturous about getting out of my car to go inflict pain upon my body while smelling greasy burger smell wafting through the humid summer air. It pissed me off and made me think of french fries and that kind of motivation just doesn't help.
I came out of Boot Camp totally burned, having kicked the classes ass, only to set my eyes upon the Fuddruckers and it's little cutesy outdoor cabana-bar area. And what do my eyes behold? Three guys, wearing black tee-shirts claiming "TRAINER" on their backs, pounding beers and feasting on Fuddrucker grub.
Really?? Couldn't they have at least changed shirts? What are their clients, for whom they are a source of motivation and models of behavior, to think? I mean, it's the same parking lot! We fitness-wannabies ARE RIGHT HERE! I'M RIGHT HERE!
Anyway, my new job begins Thursday and I'm looking forward to it. Starting to think "Back to School" and crayons and folders and new shoes and clothes, and then thinking it's a good thing I have a new job to pay for all that stuff. The girls want to do dance lessons and gymnastics and piano and violin...the list goes on and on. It's terrible to be listening to the creative interests blossoming from your children's cores only to be thinking, "Who the hell is gonna pay for that?" So Mommy is gonna pay for it. And that is so fab.
I went to Boot Camp last night, too, and that was an awesome frustration-blaster. I was struck by something ironic, or something, though, when I pulled into the gym parking lot. It's a parking lot jointly shared between the gym and Fuddruckers. While I'm not a huge fan of Fuddruckers, there's something absolutely torturous about getting out of my car to go inflict pain upon my body while smelling greasy burger smell wafting through the humid summer air. It pissed me off and made me think of french fries and that kind of motivation just doesn't help.
I came out of Boot Camp totally burned, having kicked the classes ass, only to set my eyes upon the Fuddruckers and it's little cutesy outdoor cabana-bar area. And what do my eyes behold? Three guys, wearing black tee-shirts claiming "TRAINER" on their backs, pounding beers and feasting on Fuddrucker grub.
Really?? Couldn't they have at least changed shirts? What are their clients, for whom they are a source of motivation and models of behavior, to think? I mean, it's the same parking lot! We fitness-wannabies ARE RIGHT HERE! I'M RIGHT HERE!
Anyway, my new job begins Thursday and I'm looking forward to it. Starting to think "Back to School" and crayons and folders and new shoes and clothes, and then thinking it's a good thing I have a new job to pay for all that stuff. The girls want to do dance lessons and gymnastics and piano and violin...the list goes on and on. It's terrible to be listening to the creative interests blossoming from your children's cores only to be thinking, "Who the hell is gonna pay for that?" So Mommy is gonna pay for it. And that is so fab.
Labels: back to school, back to work
posted by Kate @ 6:29 AM
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