I've received a few emails asking me what ever happened with my Crossfit attempt. Here's what! Nothing. Crossfit is kinda pricey, and I can't rationalize it right now, especially now that I'm working on some longer-term projects that aren't delivering insta-paychecks. Or actually any paychecks at all. At least not yet. NOT YET. So maybe later, Crossfit. Or maybe never, actually. I'm still considering my options.
I haven't even been able to face going back to the gym, for some reason. Actually I know perfectly well why. Before it got super-crazy hot, I got into running/walking/crawling-sobbing in the park--that's why. Also Henry was home, and he's definitely too old for the gym day care, so I was doing push-ups and so forth while he acted as my coach. He's the world's worst coach, I have to say. He kept turning off my timer when I was in mid-plank because he TOUCHED IT when I told him NOT TO TOUCH IT but it's my iPhone, so it's a magical thing that must be touched.
I have no excuses not to go since Henry's been at camp (he's returning in two days! My Littlest Excuse is coming home!). Except that it's hot, which I know means it'll be crowded at the gym, and UGH. People. Am I right, folks?
I don't think of myself as a total misanthrope, but I had drinks recently with two friends (Hi, Sarah and Jennifer! I'm talking about you!) and I brought up the topic of Other Parents and how I hate chit-chatting with Them at school pick-up and what if they want to be FRIENDS, what do I DO, and from Sarah and Jen's reaction, it was clear I was alone with this feeling. Look. LOOK. I like lots of parents at Henry's school. I just don't like Parents as a category. I like people. It's Humanity I have a hard time with.
It's possible I'm just a dick.
Oh! Speaking of being a dick! Here's a little story for you that's been haunting me for, well, years. I was living in New Jersey, and I was at my then-psychiatrist's office. She was someone I had a great rapport with, so I felt chatty one day, and decided to (gently?) poke fun at this artwork that was on her wall. It had a purple flower on it, and it said, "Love. Faith. Believe." I was staring at it, and before I knew what was happening, I was saying, "Why 'believe'?"
"Excuse me?" she said. (Or something like that. Let's pretend I remember.)
"If you're going to write 'love' and "faith,' shouldn't it be 'belief'?"
Here I thought she was going to chuckle, as she was wont to do, and think, oh, Alice, that is so you. Or maybe she'd think lord when will this asshole leave my office, isn't her time up? But either way, she would appear to tolerate my antics.
Instead, she looked vaguely stricken, and said something noncommittal about not having considered that. I may have imagined the tension, but I don't think so. I am usually oblivious to tension that I've directly created, so for me to be aware of it really says something. I left feeling like I'd turned into Larry David. Her MOM probably made that, you guys. And now I had ruined it for her.
And the next time I came in? It was gone. GONE. What could I say? "Hey, remember that print that you had up that I mocked? Why's it gone? DID I MAKE IT GONE?" There was nothing I could say. I thought about it every time I came back. You want to know the reason we left New Jersey? There you go. (Not really.)