Today has been a funny sort of a day. It was cold here. Like just stepping out of winter sort of cold. Not at all like the 2nd of December should feel at all.
For this I think my world was somehow spinning on a different axis.
First and foremost let me say this. I have never done vagina knitting. Never plan to and thought I was doing the universe a favour last week by not sharing the story. That said, let me tell show you this …
Yes someone found my blog by searching vagina knitting.
So I drop the Vagina word a lot on here. I like to think I de-stigmatise the word. The more you say it the more you may appreciate yours and the more you may appreciate the work of others. Damn it don’t be afraid of the Vagina is what I say…but Vagina Knitting…WTF?
Just to clear things up. I have never tried it, wanted to try it or planning on trying it. I don’t even knit. As for being able to sit still with a ball of wool stuck up my VAGINA yeah that just isn’t possible. You would find me tearing around the house chasing a toddler with a string of wool trailing behind.
If you don’t know what Vagina Knitting is and maybe keen to try it .. CLICK HERE.
So no. NO. NO. NO. WRONG. Shudders*
Moving on …
As most of you know, I have been going to the gym a little lately. Mostly, it is just a bit of a riot out of the house a few hours a week. Sunday evenings in particular seem to bring with it more than the usual share of ridiculousness. (See the gym is empty so we normally go and do those weight machines)
This little image sort of sums up what goes on With Mrs W, Mrs Lush and myself.
Myself possibly being the one whom finds herself in the most precarious situations… Like sort of hanging from a handle bar not able to pull the weights down but not able to touch the ground with my feet either.
Then there is this dog cocking leg jolly …
As you can imagine there was no cocking of legs after this one for a few days.
So this leads me to today.
MRS W MADE ME DO A PUMP CLASS WITH HER.
Oh yes she did.
When I get nervous I ramble lots of shit at a million miles an hour. When Mrs W gets nervous she just wants me to shut the fuck up. So I did. Just after I mentioned to her that I didn’t think she had enough space. To which I add..she didn’t. CLUNK.
Part the way through the class the instructor was yelling out ‘you live longer if you do pump’. At the same time I was screaming out ..’FUCKING DYING DOWN THE BACK DO YOU CARE?’
Mrs W was giving me her side on shut the fuck up look. Like the sort of look that suggests I am about to get a bar and weights donked on my head if I choose not to obey. (I mention once again, Mrs W you didn’t have enough space ..)
Mrs Lush was down the front poking her arse at me. Nice arse Mrs Lush. Actually all you ladies in front had nice arses. You should be proud. Lucky you couldn’t see mine way down the back, because I had the distinct feeling the stitching in my pants was coming apart.
Anyway, at the end of the class I thanked the instructor and she asked if I enjoyed it . She had a worried look on her face. Of course I did, I said. (I lied). I told her I have problems kneeling with my screwed up knee and she suggested a cushioned mat. To which I wanted to ask if just doing this sort of activity at home on my bed would be ok, but Mrs W was gone so it was best I made my exit too.
On my Facebook page today some lovely ladies gave me plenty of tips on how to survive the first Pump class. They also said I wouldn’t be able to sit on the toilet tomorrow. This is going to pose me some issues as I am sure you will appreciate.
Firstly, even if I refrain from the toilet, I still have to sit on a chair. However, being that it is an office chair I am thinking I will just wheel myself around to save the pain. When the Boss rings to come into the office, I will just wheel myself down there.
When he asks why, I will tell him you live longer if you PUMP.
He will roll is eyes and I will ask for a gentle push back down the hall to my office.
Let’s just pretend today just didn’t happen shall we?