Elizabeth Faces Life as a Competent Adult, Part 38
Apparently, in my bleary stumble to get to my morning exercise class this morning, I forgot something.
No, not my swimsuit. Not the towel or even the comb.
I realized as I was combing my hair after class that there weren't enough clothes in my gym bag.
My water aerobics class means getting out of bed two hours earlier than standard. You'd think I would be able to remember this and go to bed before 1 a.m. the night before, but that would require practical application of intelligence. I get up, go to class, then shower and change for work at the YMCA before my shift starts.
Apparently, while blearily stumbling about the house this morning, I neglected to put a shirt in the gym bag. This poses something of a problem, as the Edwardsville Police Department and staff of the YMCA do not appreciate women wandering about in public without a shirt on.
There were helpful suggestions. I could wrap the towel around my shoulders like a cape, but that only solves half the problem. I could change back into my wet, cold swimsuit and go home that way, but I was unenthusiastic about that prospect in a 35-degree March morning. I could call my fiance and have him bring me a shirt, but that guaranteed a certain amount of snark.
This is the day I discovered that my leather jacket can still zip up, despite a broken zipper. Hey, this class must be making me a little smaller, at least.
I might add that Jimmy showed an ungentlemanly lack of sympathy in this crisis.
No, not my swimsuit. Not the towel or even the comb.
I realized as I was combing my hair after class that there weren't enough clothes in my gym bag.
My water aerobics class means getting out of bed two hours earlier than standard. You'd think I would be able to remember this and go to bed before 1 a.m. the night before, but that would require practical application of intelligence. I get up, go to class, then shower and change for work at the YMCA before my shift starts.
Apparently, while blearily stumbling about the house this morning, I neglected to put a shirt in the gym bag. This poses something of a problem, as the Edwardsville Police Department and staff of the YMCA do not appreciate women wandering about in public without a shirt on.
There were helpful suggestions. I could wrap the towel around my shoulders like a cape, but that only solves half the problem. I could change back into my wet, cold swimsuit and go home that way, but I was unenthusiastic about that prospect in a 35-degree March morning. I could call my fiance and have him bring me a shirt, but that guaranteed a certain amount of snark.
This is the day I discovered that my leather jacket can still zip up, despite a broken zipper. Hey, this class must be making me a little smaller, at least.
I might add that Jimmy showed an ungentlemanly lack of sympathy in this crisis.
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