Kurt and I made very original resolutions this year. Involving getting in shape. And the gym.
We flock to Planet Fitness a few days per week, where Kurt starts grunting and sweating like a madman, while I half-heartedly try out all the fun machines. And I love it.
This week has been a little more rough, because I have what I fondly call "THE COLD OF DEATH."
It's the kind of head cold where you call your boss to see if they need you to come in for your on-call shift at the baby clothes store, and she says "NO. You sound awful. Don't you dare come near this store with those germs."
In between 18-hour bouts of sleep, I headed out the door with Kurt, because raising your temperature on a treadmill can actually help kill off some of those germs.
Plus I needed a reason to shower. It had been a while.
That's where we were tonight.
I climbed off my treadmill and walked towards the cleaning station. I just wanted to wipe down my machine. Then I felt it- my stuffy nose was about to leak.
I was reaching down to grab my tissue when a big, fat drip of snot splashed onto the floor.
I stared at it for a second in surprise. Then I looked up- into the grossed-out faces in the line of treadmills behind me.
Did they see that it was snot? Or did they think I was drooling? Either way, they were not amused.
Thank goodness half of them won't be here past February.
And Planet Fitness? Just got a little bit classier.