My not-so strange, pretty normal addiction

I have a confession to make: I'm 99% sure that I'm addicted to peanut butter. I literally eat it with every meal and it's like all I can think about. That's weird right? I mean, I know a lot of people enjoy peanut butter, some may go as far as saying they love it (if you love it so much, why don't you marry it?!) But I really think I've become addicted. I've tried not eating it with every meal, only limiting it to breakfast toast and/or a smidgen with an apple, but then I find myself thinking about it and can't stop until I eat a spoonful to get my fix. I occasionally switch back and forth between peanut butter and almond butter but, while I like almond butter, it is no peanut butter. I don't know why I'm admitting all this: I must be screaming out for attention to my addiction so someone will stage an intervention. Granted, there are worse things to be addicted to, but I feel like I just need to say it aloud (in writing...)

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Now that that's off my chest, my enabler Tiffany gave me an empty pb jar on Sunday, so you know what that means....OIAJ!!!!

Ok, so, excuse me while I rant.

Last night I force myself to go to Premier at peak exercise time: 5:30pm. Everyone and their brother is there. Ok, fine, I was expecting this. As I'm walking in, there's a group of 4 elderly women walking slow as molasses chit chatting away, not paying attention to the people behind them. Ok, sure, take your time, whatever. Before entering the gym, one must get their membership card swiped. There were two lines and I was next in my line to get my card swiped (TWSS) when one of the chatty ladies swoops in right in front of me. OK, whatever, you can enter the gym 1.5 seconds before me, that's fine. I go down to the locker room to throw my sweatshirt and purse in a locker. From the locker room, to the untrained eye, it appears there are 2 treadmills open. However, once I get up there, I see another one of the chatty ladies from the entrance is sitting on the treadmill, changing her shoes, with her backpack on the machine. Alright...you didn't want to waste the three minutes it takes to go to the locker room to drop off your crap where it belongs, sure, fine, whatever. But THEN, I see a coat on the other treadmill that looked unoccupied. WTF. I have never in my life seen people put their stuff on the treadmill to save it and here are 2 ballsy people doing it at the same time? You've got to be shitting me.

Don't worry, it gets better (or worse.) I didn't realize Puffy Coat was Backpack's friend until Backpack LEAVES the treadmill area with her backpack securely on her machine to go get her friend who is indeed Puffy Coat. When I see this, I am livid; steam exiting my ears. I could have been running for at least 5 minutes by now but you two wenches are too busy saving treadmills?? If I would have known Puffy Coat and Backpack were in cahoots, I would've taken the coat off the other treadmill and then spit on it. Like, you bitches can share. I ended up waiting about 5 more minutes before getting the treadmill next to Backpack. I was THIS close to saying, "In the future, I would appreciate it if you wouldn't save treadmills." But I didn't. Next time, though, I will cut a bitch. Next time.

YOU ARE THE WORST.

Rant complete.

Finally (I promise I'm almost done), I realize I never shared my cryptic "news" that I so slyly mentioned in Friday's post keeping you all on the edges of your seats all weekend. I'm contemplating getting my personal training license so I can start training other people or teaching fitness classes!! Well, I thought long and hard (TWSS) for a few days but decided I'm not going to pursue it...yet. They offer the tests multiple times throughout the year and you only have to sign up for the test 10 days before the day you want to take it, so if I decide I want to get my official swell on, I have a lot of opportunities to do so. Right now, though, it's just not in the cards.

Sorry if you're disappointed my news isn't more important, but it is what it is. However, I do NOT apologize if you are Backpack, Puffy Coat, or someone else who saves treadmills at peak exercise hours. That shit is not cool.

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