today, on as the world turns

Before I tell you what I'm about to tell you, I need you to know that I am not schizophrenic. I recognize that I just told you that things between Mr. Risky Business and I were done. Just a few short days ago. I recognize this. But -- and maybe it's just because I do so enjoy delivering to you, my readers, a surprise twist -- things are not over. As of Friday, actually, they are very much back on. Remember that metaphorical drive we were on? Pit stop over. We got our grape soda at the truck stop and we're back on the road.

And I have to tell you, there are plenty of reasons why I'm very happy about this development. Why a big sigh of contentment must've escaped from me at some point on Friday night. But one of the bigger ones, I must confess, is that there is a heinously unattractive and very large man at my gym who wears THE cologne. The oh my GAWD, I cannot be in a confined space with Mr. Risky Business because that smell has a stronger effect on me than five shots of tequila cologne. And he's SO unattractive. And so large. And on top of all that, an enormous douche bag who talks on his bluetooth the entire time he's on the treadmill next to me, using language that even makes ME recoil a little bit in disgust. ME. This man swears such that I am offended! DO YOU SEE THE GRAVITY OF THIS STATEMENT?

And every time he'd come a-clompin' down the gym floor toward my treadmill, I'd brace myself. Because he's all gross and crass and then inevitably I'd spend my entire run wishing that instead of being right there, with him, that I had my nose buried in Mr. Risky Business's sweater.

And maybe also my hands on his butt. But that's secondary.


cheers,
elizabeth