Bat

I learned a valuable lesson this week while taking the morning train to work. When I see something that may, in any situation, freak people out... it's best not to act casual about it.

See, on Monday I was sitting and vegging, listening to music on my phone when the Train Hottie next to me started leaning in closer. A little odd, to be sure, but I was fine with it. Until I realized she was almost sitting on my arm.

And getting closer.

OK, music is off. Earphones are down. "What's up?" I ask. The Train Hottie looks at me --still getting closer, says "I think there's a bird down the stairs." So, I lean out and over as the Train Hottie is now just about completely in my seat. Yes, indeed, there's something flying around down there.

Wait. No feathers, lightly flapping leathery wings. "That's not a bird," I say, "That's a bat." And I lean back in my seat.

OK, big lessons learned:

1. Don't point out the obvious when people freak out about bats.
   
2. Don't point out a freaky bat and then casually plan to go back to listening to music on your phone.
3. Don't say "That's a bat" as the freakin' thing flies up the stairs. People will scream.

Naturally, there was many things that could've gone better. But, the point of the story is not to act so casual. I've never seen a train empty so quickly when we finally got to the station.

I stayed behind for a bit because I didn't want to head down the stairs to early and have people think I was a pussy or something. I'm sure they think I'm a jerk, but not a pussy!

[follow-up: the bat was caught with an empty coffee cup when it came to rest on one of the lights. The conductor took the cup and brought to a local animal rescue office where the bat was eventually freed. Since I'm a jerk, I thought it would be funny to place the coffee cup on someone's desk and walk away.]

Painless

It's only a mile, but when you fall out of shape, a mile suddenly becomes much much longer than you last recall. It's even longer when your trainer says "run."

Jerk.

Not really. He set up a new "circuit" for me that includes a 1-mile run. Fortunately, as exhausting as a 1-mile run can be, it was broken down into 1/10th of a mile for each run --and it was followed by some other routine. So, I'd start running and go full-speed for 1/10th mile, then when I hit that mark, I'd get off the treadmill and do something like 20 push-ups or 20 pull-ups. As my trainer started me and I was huffing and puffing after the first tenth, he had me do 20 squats while holding 20 pound weights. It was a full day before I realized he'd doubled the weight from my last circuit.

It was a challenge to get through the mile and there were times I wanted to just collapse, other times I wanted to throw up, and even one time I was ready to give in because of the stitch in my side. But, my trainer kept me focused and I pushed through. I finished the mile and I finished my circuit. And thank God, he didn't say "OK, let's go again."

I expected after such an intensive workout that I'd be both asleep and in pain by the time the train pulled into my home station. As I showered after the circuit, I contemplated rolling down the stairs of the train car and out to the station because there was no way these legs would be functioning.

Nothing happened.

So, I was sure since nothing hurt after getting home, that by the time I woke up early the next morning I'd be feeling the burn with every step. But nothing happened.

During work, I was sure after sitting at my desk for hours at a time, something would be burning. But again, nothing.

No pain. I had a day off from the gym and headed back yesterday and never had any pain. And after yesterday's repeat: no pain again.

This is a big hurdle to get over. I'm glad I'm over it. Again.

Survive

After the odd "job recommendation" I got a few weeks back, I was quite concerned about the future of my job. I knew there were "big changes coming" at work and my fear was that those changes wouldn't include me. Even after my boss told me my contract renewal was 99.9% ensured, I had a feeling that 0.1% had compounding interest.

So, as the end of July loomed, I was pretty much convinced it was time to pack up my belongings and say goodbye to my new friends. Upon hearing that we could be losing a good percentage of the people at work as part of the "big change," I did start bringing stuff home. There were plenty of goodbye messages from other people in my inbox, people who were about to leave on holidays who felt they weren't coming back and were leaving contact information. I got the same email ready to send out as well.

Just before hitting 'send' at the end of July, my boss called me into her office. "here it is," I thought, "the end is here." Instead, she had my contract extension sitting in front of me.

I'm safe and I've survived. I worry, however, about the friends I've made. Will they last too?

Despite my survival, I did apply for the recommended job. If it happens (and I don't think it will), there'll be more "big changes" coming.... especially in my life.

Blush

This one's going back to an event that happened a few months ago, but as this is a longer post, maybe I'll be forgiven for finally mentioning it here.

I've mentioned (ad nauseum to some, I'm sure) my fixation with the Train Hotties (a.k.a. 'TH') before. There was one morning... one fine sunny morning... that I followed Train Hottie #2 (my favorite 'TH') up the stairs. Now, at first I was polite and kept my vision toward our feet... because otherwise my eyes are level with her.... anyway, at first my eyes were looking down, but eventually, as we slowed down in our hike up the steps, I looked up. It was quite the view. Thongs are good. Especially when viewed whilst walking up 72 steps at the train station.

As transfixed as I was, though, I should've been more aware of my surroundings. Like, the fact that a guy I work with was going up the escalator next to me. He was kind enough as we all reached the top step to shout out and ask me if I enjoyed the view.

Very. Embarrassed.

But she turned and smiled. That smile!!

It didn't matter if I was busted. That smile made everything better (except I'm still a total perv, but it was almost like being forgiven for my pervi-ness!). Bah.

Flash forward a few months to today and I have yet another opportunity to make an ass of myself. See, TH#2 regularly sits on the lower section of the train these days (started before my embarrassment, thanks). I still sit in the upper section with 3 other Train Hotties (majority rules, after all). As I got out of my seat to head down the stairs, who do I see?

TH#2. In a stunning black skirt.... and legs.... oh my the le--

I was walking down the stairs, remember? Probably would've been a good idea to pay attention to the stairs instead of the glimmering tanned legs in front of me.

Fortunately I only missed one step. But, it was enough to make me look the fool in front of her.

Again.

Bah.