Stretching Out in Open Diary 2001-2018 (Pre-Prosebox)

I have to tell myself every morning that Pilates is a wonderful way to stretch and wake up.  And it really is.  It’s not like it’s a horrible shock to the system or anything.  It’s simply a series of powerful stretches.  Granted, my whole body is shaking when I’m done with the 45-minute session.  But it does feel good.  And Pilates is supposed to be the ultimate tummy flattener.  So why wouldn’t I rise and shine every morning with a smile on my face and determination in my heart and get those morning stretches started?

I’ll be honest and say that last week I was a slacker.  For some reason, I couldn’t drag myself out of bed to save my life.  I was late for work each and every day and even breathing seemed to be a chore.  I’m trying to make up for it this week.  I’ve been up and at ‘em every morning…including this morning (even though I drank a bit too much wine last night).

Last night was something of a fiasco.  I’d invited Chelle, my counterpart at work, to the monthly wine tasting event.  I was kind of surprised when she agreed to go with me because she rarely does anything extracurricular with me.  So she met me at my apartment and then Jen called to tell me that she was right around the corner and she met us here too.  We then walked the two blocks to the restaurant where this month’s event was taking place (it changes each month).

Long story short, I think the whole thing overwhelmed Chelle.  I should have warned her that it would be crowded and loud.  But I couldn’t possibly have warned her that they would run out of glasses…just after they’d served both Jen and me.  Nor could I tell her that the place would run out of food (supposed to be a “light appetizer” kind of thing).  Yes, but I really should have warned her that the cast of characters at these things can get quite obnoxious.  But did I need to?  This is a wine tasting, after all.  And at most tastings, at least the ones I’ve been to, ya don’t really just “taste”, do you?  Mix that with no food in the belly and what do you get?  Mmmm hmmm.  A few hundred tipsy, hungry, gropey (and in some cases, very horny) folk.

Chelle decided to leave when she felt herself getting buzzed, and (though she didn’t come right out and say it) annoyed at best.  I, on the other hand, had to stay until the fat lady sang…or in this instance, until Secret Agent Guy declared his love and then felt me up.  Nice.  I wonder if he regretted that this morning.  I wonder if he drove himself home?  Hm.  These are mysteries I’m not sure I want to unlock.  Though secretly, I was sort of turned on by SAG’s sudden and very aggressive affection.

I was really worried about Chelle’s impressions.  But she was sweet and called me on her drive home to tell me how much “fun” she had.  I know she was lying, but it did make me feel a little bit better.

Eh.

Tonight was a vendor dinner.  More wine.  Filet mignon.  And now I’m sleepy.  Supposed to be thinking about what I’m going to pack for Miami, but I just can’t right now.  I think I wanna go put my jammies on and read a little until I drift off to sleep.

Morning Pilates will come, sure as the sun rises…though it starts before.