Rats own teddy’s too
I do not usually talk about the gym, but you know I do not usually lead into a story by saying I do not usually talk about the gym. So pretty much I have a unique intro as it is. But I will continue with my story/observation, whatever you want to classify it as. I know you as the reader always want to classify these posts. I began my routine that my personal trainer* ran me through a few months ago, squats. I had to wait a little bit to use the machine as girl in her early 20’s was using the Smith Machine. This is a machine named after a guy/girl/person with the name Smith. While I waited I ran on the treadmill. She moved on so I did my squats on the Smith Machine, as stated. When I finished I moved onto the next exercise yet the girl was on this, taking her time.
New paragraph, so I can vent about that I chose a 24 hour gym and go at 10pm at night so I do not have to wait for equipment. Cause it is plain awkward to just stand there watching them and waiting. You have a routine and you cannot just do something else. Well you probably can but I am a tad OCD when it comes to routines at the gym, along with making sure my alarm clock is set four times, and I cannot have sand in my food. Back to the girl (why am I calling her a girl when she is in her 20’s?) and she moved on again and so I did my thing on the machine that has no memorable name. I looked ahead and yes, the girl was on the machine I wanted to do next. This was no fluke surely… My personal trainer* then walked past and she waved. AHUH!! He did the same routine with her!! I then looked back at the equipment behind me and a guy was doing the same unique exercise at the machine I was just on. He then nodded to my personal trainer*. All three of us were totally different body types and ages, is this something that should be happening? I then realised all nine people in the gym knew and had trained with my personal trainer*.
I find I am having the same unrealistic debates with Cal as I had with my Dad when I was seven. Do not kills the rats/mice in our place as they are nice things. I blame children’s literature for personifying objects/animals/weather and exploiting kids with wild imaginations, they have no idea how much it will affect them their whole lives. Because pretty much everything, even when I am 28, has a soul and a personality. So the rats who are trying to eat through our glass door to get into the house, have to get home before sunrise to help their kids with their homework, have to decide what mother’s day card to buy (Happy Mother’s Day Mum) and some rats have an opinion that painted toenails look shit on most people, including men. Therefore I somehow request Cal to not put rat bait out, to deter/kill the rats. Cal kinda just sighs and secretly does it and I secretly pretend to not know he does it and if the rats disappear, it is because rental prices have gone up in Richmond and they headed to Swan Hill.
Rats have teddys too. Just saying.
And in other news, I lost a bet as I went for the Sydney Swans at the footy, and my mate Dale went for Richmond and Richmond won. Losing the bet meant I have to post Mariah Carey and Whitney Houston status updates for the next week. I am struggling already and it is only Monday. See below for my sad face:
Sydney will win next time and Dale will have to post Christian rock band lyrics for a week. My post today was:
“Placed so much joy into our hands
What we dreamed
We finally captured
Heaven took command”
This is concerning as I sound like someone on Facebook who is being cryptic and wanting attention.
*Friendly fella who has a passion for fitness but unsure if he is right for me. Just saying.
