Three completely unrelated stories - on the gym, the hospital, and delusional me.

I have three different stories related to recent happenings in my life, but none were really long enough for a post of their own, so here they are!




1. My experience with the gym
A few weeks ago, I went to the gym for the first time... ever!
"Look at me!  I'm being responsible for my personal health!" I thought, even though approximately 40 other people were accomplishing this seemingly impossible task.  About ten minutes into my run on the elliptical:

Apparently, you're supposed to sign up for cardio equipment.  I awkwardly stammered "No..?" and she told me I needed to sign up.  So I left the gym.

Despite this traumatic encounter, I went back to the gym again the very next day... and again, for the next two weeks, pretty much everyday.

Look!  I'm being healthy!

Two things ended up happening:

1. During the weeks I attended the gym, I ate McDonald's nearly every day.  "Hey, I went to the gym today!  I can get McDonald's at 11 o'clock at night"

2. I ultimately tired myself out and stopped going altogether.  Hello freshman 15.  On the plus side, I still haven't boosted my car, so I have no convenient way of getting to McDonald's!

Even eating McDonald's all the time wasn't that bad, because at least I was doing something to even everything out.  Now I live a sedentary lifestyle, my exercise limited to crossing the courtyard to the caf, or walking up and down the stairs in res (and generally, I opt for the elevator).

2. The Hospital (oooooh, font change!)
A few days ago, as the result of a minor accident, I (as well as others involved in the accident) decided that paying a visit to the hospital wouldn't be a bad idea, just to make sure we weren't seriously injured. Ok, I didn't decide this.  I was going to irrationally hope that any problems would just go away on their own.  It was with an RA's recommendation that I ended up going.
Anyway, before you start to worry about whether or not I'm writing this from a hospital bed or a wheelchair - I'm fine.  I was just concerned with some back pain, which turned out to be nothing more than a little muscle bruising.  To be on the safe side, an x-ray technician x-rayed my entire spine.  Whether or not I was hallucinating at 4 in the morning, the x-ray tech looked something like this:

Only with her hair up in a perky ponytail and she had a Swedish accent.  But I was convinced that my xray tech was in reality a wealthy socialite.  

Before this happened, I spent a lot of time waiting around in a hospital room... despite the late hour (or early, depending on how you look at it) there were a few other patients in the nearby rooms.  I could hear two woman speaking very loudly from across the hall:
Woman 1: You know that lesbian friend I have?
Woman 2: Yeah? The one who's on acid and pregnant?
Woman 1: No no no, the other one, the one who used to be on acid, and is pregnant.
Woman 2: Oh, okay!  What about her?
Woman 1: Well now she's in Italy, and she's all "happy happy lesbian!"


I could frequently hear sounds from their room that were either laughs or cries, but it was impossible to distinguish.  

3. Delusions of Dallas Power.
I think this is the first time I've ever actually mentioned my name on this site... feel free to facebook stalk me if you don't already know who I am!
I might be a bit delusional at times.  (note: in my very first post http://powertequila.blogspot.com/2010/10/my-first-ever-blog-post-yay.html I clearly stated that I wasn't delusional.  I lied.)  


For example, when I went home a few weekends ago I told people I'd be making my triumphant return sometime in the evening.  In reality, my return involved passively watching a hockey game with some old friends then spending quality time with the 'rents.  Nothing triumphant actually happened: there was no parade, nor did I slay any public nuisances... like giants.


Another example is basically everything about my driving - only I fully accept the fact that I'm a terrible driver.  For whatever reason, in my mind it is perfectly fine to not allow the right of way to a pedestrian on the grounds that "I own the road!" and it is never my fault, even though in reality it is, generally, always my fault.  


And tonight, I fear that posting this blog on a Friday night will lead people to believe that I have no life, and nothing better to do than write about three random stories that happened in my life.  In reality, I don't think anyone really puts that much thought into it.  Or maybe I have no life... wait, no,  I have plans, I swear! :(