There's an epidemic at the gym...

...and it is NOT pretty.

I'm not talking about gingers with too many cleavage freckles. I'm not talking about creepy young guys that wear oversize cargo pants. Though why do I feel like everyone terrible in Portland comes to my gym? Ew.

I'm talking about old men. And short shorts. These are two things that should NEVER go together. If I were more clever I'd think of two things that don't go together as an example. But I'm not. It's a shame really. You can think of something that doesn't go as a pair on your own. No, not those two, they're delicious together and you know it.

Back to the gym. There's this one guy in particular: I call him Short-Shorts. See, told you I'm not that clever. Guess what he does. Other than gross me out by wearing the same pair of super short work out shorts every day, not much of anything. Tonight at the gym? Two more men in hot pant caliber shorts. It's too much. They must see us look at them. The ole up and down with the eyes move? I know I'm not good at hiding my facial expressions. I'm very clearly rolling my eyes and trying not to laugh when I walk by. Also when I see something really bad I kind of stop breathing for a little while. It's weird, I'm not gonna lie. Maybe (probably) they think I have some kind of emotional problem. Maybe they don't get the connection. Maybe they think I'm trying to flirt with them. Guess what, I laugh at everything okay, get over yourself.

But this isn't about me. This is about the gross old men and their ridiculously hairy thighs. That is serious intel I should NOT have on multiple men that frequent my gym. They can't possibly think they look good. Do they? They can't possibly be comfortable. Short-Shorts is almost constantly tug tug tugging on the hem of his shorts in a clearly vain attempt at humility. They have something that'll solve that problem for you champ: they're called pants. Figure it out.

Insomnia isn't always a Robin Williams chucklefest

Right now it's only 10:30 and that hardly counts as insomnia. But for the past week (and most of my life) I've had difficulty sleeping. Difficulty falling asleep, difficulty staying asleep, it all sucks and leaves me exhausted. Last week I was on steroids for my sore throat which causes insomnia even though I was supposed to be sleeping and trying to get better. I feel better now (thanks drugs) but still have a feeling I won't be able to fall asleep.

Some might claim it's that I leave the TV on. But if I don't watch Simpsons and Futurama over and over and over, who will I ask? The communists? I think not. And when I try to sleep in pitch black silence all I can hear is my brain and that is not something I want to listen to. I hear about my car, my job, my finances, my living situation, boys I like, my weight, my diet, my past, my future, my insecurities. It's the worst. So I watch TV instead. But sometimes even Bart's shenanigans and Bender's burps can't drown out my crazy.

Like right now. I'm so very very tired from leaving the house today (for the first time in a week and a half that wasn't the doctor's office or grocery store). Four whole hours I spent walking around. My legs are sore right now, that's how sedentary I've been for the past 10 days. The good news is I have a fancy dress outfit (right down to the accessories) for my little brother's wedding next month. So now I lie awake and think about my complexion and my tan lines my hair and again my weight. I want to sleep and not worry about anything but instead I worry about everything. I know I'm not alone in this and for me writing gets the crazy out of my head and into the interwebs where no one will ever see it and it can't harm anyone. I assume.

So hopefully whatever I just took will kick in soon and I can shut it down. At least for a while.

I'm living a Wayne's World quote

Only it's actually the opposite of the quote. Does that make sense? No? Too bad. You need to be hopped up on a multitude of drugs and exhausted but unable to sleep thanks to one of the side effects of said drugs. (Thanks PREDNISONE you can suck it!) What's the quote you ask?

"I once thought I had mono for an entire year, it turned out I was just really bored."

For the last couple weeks I have NOT wanted to go to the gym. I've been fine seeing friends and working but my heart was not in it when it was time for stupid cardio. When I did go it was lackluster and while I was sweating a lot I'm now fairly certain that it was totally the humidity. I chalked it up to boredom and a little sadness cause my actual friends and gym friends had either left or changed schedules and I didn't know anyone except all the people I stare at and judge constantly. And they're fun for a while but again, I'm easily bored so the novelty didn't last.

It turns out I wasn't just bored. I have mono. Awesome. When I read up on it and the "incubation time" (that makes me want to watch some Aliens (GAME OVER MAN!)) before symptoms appear (in my case an insanely vengeful sore throat and swollen lymph nodes) is 6 weeks from exposure. I do believe that leaves me somewhere in the Alaskan wilderness. I did let my germophobe guard down while there: sharing glasses and the like. Hey, it was ALASKA! Oh well. I still stand by the fact that it was an amazing vacation, even if it did leave me with a severely painful and lasting impression. It could have been sweat at the gym or even that hobo I let cry in my mouth, but I guess we'll never really know for sure.

Side note: Because I like to research things, especially when they make me feel crap crap crappy, I learned that 90-95% of adults have been exposed to mono. So yay I'm in like the biggest, stupidest club on the planet now! And the best part? Epstein-Barr virus, the cause of infectious mononucleosis, is totally in the herpes family. So they're right: what happens in Alaska (or Vegas I guess) stays in Alaska. Except for herpes. That shit'll follow you home.