As I've said before, I really do appreciate the fact that my employer grants me a free gym membership as part of my benefits package. I've even more or less made peace with the fact that I occasionally run into not-quite-strangers in the locker room at that gym. What I am not yet comfortable with (and likely never will be), however? When those not-quite-strangers are actually my coworkers or--worse yet--my boss.
Today, in a fine example of unfortunate timing, my boss walked into the locker room and around the corner directly towards me just as I was peeling my sweaty sports bra over my head. That's right--arms up, girls on full display, stark bare and probably blindingly white under the industrial fluorescent lights. I'm sure it was quite a view... particularly from her sudden vantage point less than eighteen inches away. Really I have no idea which of us was more uncomfortable at that moment: me or her. I'm going to have to go with me, but it's probably a tossup.
What? If I'm ever going to tell a story about my breasts, it might as well be during November sweeps, right? (Or at least during November NaBloPoMo, where the story is set to remain in top position for no longer than a day.)
In other gym-related dilemmas, here's a question for you... When you make the genius move of somehow packing your workout bag and forgetting to include socks, which is the better solution: hitting the treadmill sockless, or in the brown wool socks you wore to work? I thought I made the right choice, but the raw skin under the broken blister below my ankle is currently telling me otherwise. Ow.
I am so smart. S-M-R-T.*
* I told you I had the appropriate Simpsons reference for damn-near every situation in life...