Hongo
Made a funny discovery this morning upon opening emails from the doctor's office to start the insurance paperwork. The Spanish word for mushroom is 'hongo,' and it's the same word for fungus. Jim has mushrooms.
He's no better. In fact he has an infected bug bite on his butt, which means two things. Number one, Dr. Fernando is going to be squeezing the pus out in the next day or so to his delight. Number two, I've had to play step and fetch it today.
I ran around first thing to take our power washer to the church so they could clean something at the new building. Jim rode with me because the workment know no English and my Spanish does not extend much beyond 'Gimme a mojito,' 'where's the bathroom?,' and 'what does that cost?'
On the way back Jim wanted to stop at a new gym. We got there just in time for their morning class. Apparently it's some sort of 'Crossfit' studio and we got treated to instructors and owner having a serious disagreement combined with the strangest dieting advice and completely disorganized classes. Jim was bummed, he'd hoped he'd finally found another gym in the area. The other one has told him not to come back until he loses 30 or 40 pounds. Another strange one.
I swear I have seen more drama through the years taking place as workout places. This looks like more of the same with some serious body shamers mixed in. At least at this place there would not be ladies more interested in socializing and gossiping than working out, and no older gentlemen trying to get laid in the hot tub.
Usually I avoid this type of gym because you can feel the judgment when you're not self involved and perfect. You can feel the kissing their reflections in the mirror vibe the minute you walk in. I hightailed it back to the car to write a packing list for my Christmas trip in a few weeks. Ain't nobody got time for that type of gym.
After we got home it's been me running in and out repeatedly to run those errands Jim does. I'm tired. But at least our hot tub is working right for a change. Tonight I've been going back and forth between the hot tub and the pool, hot cold hot cold.
He's no better. In fact he has an infected bug bite on his butt, which means two things. Number one, Dr. Fernando is going to be squeezing the pus out in the next day or so to his delight. Number two, I've had to play step and fetch it today.
I ran around first thing to take our power washer to the church so they could clean something at the new building. Jim rode with me because the workment know no English and my Spanish does not extend much beyond 'Gimme a mojito,' 'where's the bathroom?,' and 'what does that cost?'
On the way back Jim wanted to stop at a new gym. We got there just in time for their morning class. Apparently it's some sort of 'Crossfit' studio and we got treated to instructors and owner having a serious disagreement combined with the strangest dieting advice and completely disorganized classes. Jim was bummed, he'd hoped he'd finally found another gym in the area. The other one has told him not to come back until he loses 30 or 40 pounds. Another strange one.
I swear I have seen more drama through the years taking place as workout places. This looks like more of the same with some serious body shamers mixed in. At least at this place there would not be ladies more interested in socializing and gossiping than working out, and no older gentlemen trying to get laid in the hot tub.
Usually I avoid this type of gym because you can feel the judgment when you're not self involved and perfect. You can feel the kissing their reflections in the mirror vibe the minute you walk in. I hightailed it back to the car to write a packing list for my Christmas trip in a few weeks. Ain't nobody got time for that type of gym.
After we got home it's been me running in and out repeatedly to run those errands Jim does. I'm tired. But at least our hot tub is working right for a change. Tonight I've been going back and forth between the hot tub and the pool, hot cold hot cold.
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