I love the song The Reason by Hoobastank. Also, my next pet is going to totally be named Hoobastank.
I know the song is 10 years old, but I like it anyway. I was drawn to it originally because there is a big ruby in the video and if you show me something shiny and pretty I will be drawn to it, as I'm a crow. But then I just started liking the song in general.
They were playing it at the Harris Teeter, there, where I shop. I shop at Harris Teeter almost every day, a fact that annoys the hoobastank out my mother. "Write a list, honey," she says. But I really don't mind going to Harris Teeter. It's like two minutes away and what else do I have to do?
The point is, I must feel at home there, because I was at the coffee beans, grinding the decaf with my little pinch of caf I allow myself, and I was sing-sing-singing along.
"I FOUND a reason for meeeeeee," I sang, dumping the beans in, "to change how I used to beeeeeee..."
You know, Marvin didn't allow me to sing in the house. I offended his fine musical ear.
"A REASON to start over NEWWWWWW. AND THE REASON IS YOUUUU! AND THE REASON IS YOUUUU!"
"You, um, certainly like that song," said a man who I had NO CLUE was there. He was looking at prepackaged beans. He totally looked like that guy who played the counselor in Freaks and Geeks. Did you watch that show? Netflix it. It is a wonderful wonderful show.
So that was my humiliation. But it gets better! Oh, yes!
Many people at work do this workout in a spare room both at noon and after work. I decided to join them, with my athletic self, and did I mention one of the people who does this workout is my pal Vilhelm Oyster, who is lean and muscular and has no fat on him whatsoever?
I got into my workout clothes, which by the way, I meant to pack my "I'm kind of a big deal on the internet" shirt that Faithful Reader Joann gave me, but in my haste I packed my "Owl are Assholes" tshirt, which meant I had to wear it inside-out seeing as I was at work.
My POINT is, could this workout have been harder? Holy cats in a blanket. We were working our core, and if I HAD a core, it would be exhausted. And when I was done? I still had four hours left of work.
"I just got done working out. My hair looks like my brain has finally snapped," I wrote to Daniel Boone once I minced back to my desk. Seriously. It was ALL OVER the place, whipping to and fro. I was whipping my hair back and forth, but not in a cute Willow Smith kind of a way.
And could I have been more perspire-y?
Bringing sexy back. Is what I did over in my cube all afternoon.
And then finally, I had to go bra shopping tonight because as we all know, I need a strapless brassiere. And yes, I said "brassiere" because I am your grandma.
So I was trying on the bras, and I finally settled on a nice lacy one that I would show you but my exhibitionism only goes so far. Afterwards, I decided to shop around at other stores, because I really need a blue tank top to go under my sari for this weekend.
Shop after shop I entered, talking to sales clerks, smiling at people. And when I got home?
I realized my shirt was on backwards. The scoop was all in the back. The front was all up under my business. And my hair still had the "my brain snapped" look from working out eight hours earlier.
Wait. How is it I haven't managed to snag a new husband yet?
