Hi. I’m watching the Oxygen Network on Friday night. What’s up now? Last week they sent me to St. Louis for a “growth opportunity” for work. Right. I went to a workshop where they discussed processes that I have nothing to do with but I had to sacrifice my Sunday to get there, my entire week to coworkers 24/7 interaction, and the weekend after to catching up on work I missed while I was gone. We started the week though with one of my favorite things: psychological assessments. We were asked to take the Myers-Briggs the week before in an untainted environment with no stresses or distractions. When the fuck would you like me to take this test? Oh, how about after yoga on the top of a mountain covered in flowers while merry bands of children laugh and braid my hair. I took my assessment in a ten minute time frame when I wasn’t being harassed for something stupid. We were supposed to get the results the first morning of the workshop. We got entire booklets and a print out of our results. It turns out mine was spot on: ISTJ. Basically, I’m an introvert with no regard for feelings. It ‘feels’ good to finally get that out there. Yes, when you get that sense that I think you’re a whiner or crazy or emotional when you’re talking to me, you’re correct. People that irritate me the most? Feelers that don’t plan anything. Just don’t even bother. It also said that I irritate others by a lack of interpersonal niceties. Please let me know if you think I’m not paying enough attention to you, and I will be sure you pat your little head when you are able to perform basic human functions.
My roommate, let’s call her Mourtney, and I joined a new gym this week. As much as I love Chalene and Turbo Jam and Chalean Extreme, it’s not working for me and I’m over it. So we went to this ‘private gym’ to see about membership. The owner is a really tiny Hispanic woman but she was really nice and offered how she could help the both of us meet our specific goals. You get one free assessment with a trainer every month with your membership so I met with the trainer last night. Holy hell. Every time I breathe I can feel every muscle between my ribs, across my back, my pervert lady muscles hurt, my obliques are howling all the way to my hip flexors. I am totally going back for more. She also measured about four places with her evil little fat calipers pinchers and that was enough to make me never want to eat again but that’s not a great idea either. Since I have no feelings I respond well to numbers. And schedules. And plans. Tiny Trainer is going to fix me. I also have nothing else to do so why not spend all my time in a gym? I’m actually ok with it. I enjoy attempting to roll over and using every muscle in my body because the normal ones are in pain. And this is all just from the assessment. Don’t be too jealous when I look like a female Chuck Norris in a few months. I hope I can groom my beard as well though.