Don't skip leg day, bro

Why would anyone ever skip leg day?  I love leg day.  But I suppose not everyone has such an awesome workout partner as I.  We laugh and have fun, even while crying because our muscles are on fire (okay maybe that's just me crying and cussing him out).  Today's torture was accompanied by fun 80s music, which just made it even better.  Plus he told me that my legs are perfect.  It's not like thaaat, we're platonic friends (for many years), but I still enjoy hearing it, even if I know it's not true.  That's pretty fucked up if you think about it, so I try not to delve too deeply.

We even did some bizarro chest fly thing on top of an exercise ball.  He had to hold it for me while I learned my balance point.  Good thing his legs are like oak.  After I couldn't lift my arms anymore (or walk), we called it a day.  As he walked me to my car, I was in such high spirits that I even gave one of the creepy guys there a great big smiling hello.  In hindsight, I should have kept the giant smile to myself, but maybe he won't read anything into it.  And maybe the Pope is Jewish.  It's been rumored that he finds my hair to be too wild for his tastes.  'Sif anyone was asking him.  Maybe the smile will scare him away.

I gave my workout partner a great big bear hug and wished happy times for both of us.  Why does life have to be so hard for people all the damn time?

Afterwards, I met one of my good girlfriends for lunch.  Mmm, bacon burger.  We chatted about light stuff and finally drifted into heavy stuff.  I got a little teary-eyed about my forthcoming eye surgery.

[Sidenote: It seems to be a foregone conclusion after getting a second opinion from another respected ophthalmologist.   I'm very grateful that a spouse of a friend ventured forth with her opinion.  Obviously she has nothing to gain, so it was nice not to look for ulterior motives and just trust a professional's judgment.  Thanks again!!]

And apparently those wet sparkles in my eyes weren't enough to persuade my friend to change the subject to something lighter.  Next thing I know, we're into even heavier stuff, and my eyes are leaking like sieves.  In the fucking diner.   Always prepared, she pulls a tissue from her purse and hands it to me.  Turns out I guess I needed to get that off my chest and cry a little.  I felt better later.  Especially after listening to my special Dance Mix Tape.  That's right, I have a Dance Mix Tape, made just for me for those moments when I need a little pick-me-up.  Don't be jealous!