...um, well, I must admit I've been a slacker this week. See, my gym has started admitting children. Like, 10, 9, 8, even 6 year olds from the look of them. There is something truly hideous about going to the gym and finding munchkins crawling all over the machines. On the one hand I find it unpalatable that any member of the gym, regardless of age, be told that they have to get off a machine because they're worth less than the other member who wants to use said machine. But on the other hand, I have NO intention of waiting around until a 6 year old (who's had playtime and PE lessons already that day) finishes using the bloody machine I want.
I asked the gym what was going on, and they said "Oh, it's the Youth program". And I was all "So, is that just today?" "No, every day from 5pm to 6pm....don't you like children?" Which, frankly, was almost enough to make me punch the bloke - clearly possession of a womb=doting on kiddies. Or, to be fair to Egypt, possession of a pulse=doting on kiddies. In my case? Not so much. I mean, I like kids. I spend most of my waking hours working with them. But when I go home? When I go to the gym? This is GROWN UP time, buddy. The patience, she is all gone by this point. I'm into Get Those Kids Off My Lawn time.
Aaarrgh!
Ahem. So - bit of a dodgy week. But I've lost 29lb so far, which is nice, and I've been using some v. good exercise DVDs which do lots of stretching and toning and that kind of thing. It's all good. I have places in new places.
eta
Should've mentioned - along with the horror of Kiddies In The Gym (which is akin to the Trouble With Tribbles) there is the more loathsome issue of the Mothers of said kiddies, who are now starting to accompany their little darlings. They stand around the bloody gym, while you're sweating away on your machine, minding your own business, and there's some neauveau riche hag in stillettos and tight-fitting trouser suit, dripping with gold, clutching her handbag and chatting with her chum while The Little Darlings scamper from machine to machine.
This is enough to make me want to knife someone. These are the same kind of idiot 'Look At How Much Money I Have' people who come to a Carol Concert at their kids school and bring their Saiamese Cat with them, because said cat is an expensive show-off thing to own. In this case, though, it's a case of being so ridiculously well off you can afford to buy utterly needless gym membership for your 8 year old. But, you know, you're not going to get sweaty or risk chipping a nail by using the machinery yourself, obviously.
bangs head on desk.
Yes. Ahem. Very annoying indeed.