Accidental Cardio

Something has been amiss this week. Maybe it's those post-wedding blues. Or the return of fall, which means that winter is just around the bend. Or maybe it's just fluxes in hormones and weather. (Or maybe I just got bit on the bum by a bitch bug.) Whatever it is, this girl needed to jostle something back into place.

Best place to start: tackling the walrus and getting back to some sort of physical activity (other than bustin' out sick dance moves at various wedding receptions).

So, gave it a go. Jumped back into my go-to TIU workout. Rearranged our second bedroom so all the mirrors were just perfect for me to openly judge myself so I'd work extra hard. Locked the beau out and went to town for a time. Decent workout, clearly out of shape, but did pretty swell for still dealing with my bum knee (#CuzIm90).

Post workout, bopped over to the bathroom to rinse off. Decided to bump some jams. I haven't gotten in good shower jams in far too long, so spent a few minutes deciding on music. Tried to reflect on the source of my funk (my weird week funk, not like, my groovin' dance funk) and decided on a throwback. Went way back and tried to think what my favorite inspirational tunes had been back in middle school, during a much simpler time. Came up with the quintessential song: Under Pressure by Queen and Bowie. Freddie and Bowie, my straight up favorites. That was just the ticket!

Putzed with my phone to get the song going. Set it on the sink and hopped in the shower. After the infamous opening beats, as the stellar vocals chimed in, I realized the volume was way too high. Moved the shower head aside, shook some water off. Quickly scrambled out of the tub and turned it down. All set. Back in shower. Hot water, cool shampoo, hitting all the right notes.

Hardly a minute in, the song stops. Hands in hair, mid shampoo, my eyes popped open, filled with rage. Shampoo in said eyes. A cranky sigh, a half-assed rinse, and I was out of the tub again, this time caring less about dripping, as my frustration built. Can't a lady just get her groove back and shower and Bowie in peace without all these interruptions??

Realized it was a WIFI issue, so spent several minutes awkwardly pacing naked, with my phone above my head as the water flung off my waving arms and I tried to regain signal. Finally, restored. Set phone down and turned back to shower, singing all the "de da day"s leading up to Bowie's epic line.

Opened curtain, got in.
"It's the terror of knowing what this world is about..." 
Realized I wasn't alone.
"...Watching some good friends screaming..."
There was also a GIANT centipede that was half crawled out of that little "overflow" thing above the drain and below the spout. It was halfway out and was already two inches long. Panic set in.
"...'LET ME OUT!'"

"These are the days it never rains, but it pours."

With zero regard for water spillage, completely ripped the shower curtain out of my way in order to find something to smash the creature with.
"Turned away from it all, like a blind man..."
Total flood, water everywhere. Thrashed about. Grabbed toilet paper, but it just like melted (as TP is wont to do when it gets wet), so that was no good.
"...Sat on a fence, but it don't work." 
Decided to sacrifice the pink polka dot hand towel from the dollar store. Turned back to the shower to destroy the pede.
"Keep coming up with love, but it's so slashed and torn. Why, oh why?"
Dramatically threw back curtain. Further flooding.
"Whyyyyyyyy?"

And it was no where. It had escaped / gone back to the fiery depths from whence it came. I set the towel on the tub ledge and got back in to just finish my shower, my heart racing. Closed the curtain... and that's where it was.
"Insanity laughs, under pressure we're breaking..." 
A silent, open-mouthed shriek of horror, and I began batting at the curtain. The pede scuttled frantically down to the tub, away from the flailing plastic. Water flying everywhere. More scuttling, more waving about. Total chaos.
"Can't we give ourselves one more chance?? Why can't we give love, that one more chance? Why can't we give love, give love, give love...."
STOMP. Instinct took over and I literally took my bare foot and smashed the pede against the tub.

Then I had a nervous breakdown. Filled with regret over my reflex, I attempted to scrub off all my skin with that damn pink polka dot towel which had failed me. At no point though did I regret the song choice. And that's what really maters.

Sorry, towel, I have to go light you on fire now.
(Note: blur is from my literal throwing in of said towel)