Hurty-hurt
So last night at the gym, I was running on the treadmill. When there is no one waiting for a machine, I run 40 minutes even though the posted limit is 30 minutes. Yesterday, when I was at 30 minutes and counting, this guy comes into the room. Let me describe him for you. Physically, he is small, skinny, compact, white as parchment, with pale hair
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I'll admit I was a bit of an asshole in the theater on Sunday. I was on a self-date, watching a matinee of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, which of course is basically holy meditation for me. I got there early. I set myself up with popcorn on one side and Diet Coke on the other. I'd picked a perfect seat in the exact center. It was one of the few times I allowed myself the luxury of control - I do, on self-dates; I don't ask others to suffer my special needs. Then this mother, father and kid come in twenty minutes late. I see them hovering at one end of the aisle, so I put my hood up. Seeing this, of course they sent the KID to ask me to move over so they could sit together, even though there were other seats available. I huffily got up and moved. My reverie disrupted. The kid thanked me several times and then I felt very bad. I wanted to say "sorry I was an asshole; I act that way when I see movies like this; everything has to be perfect, which is why I see them alone..."
I'm sorry that happened to you, Ames. You DO have a very nice voice. I never ever skip over "Straighten Up" or the Sarah Maclachlan song you sing. On the contrary I am pretty much spellbound.
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