October 25, 2012
What does it say about someone when she struggles to wrap up her workday, crossing every t and dotting every i, rushes to the gym to beat the 5:00 traffic and fit the workout in between work and dinner prep, strips down to skivvies, and opens her gym bag to find her socks, shoes, and gym book, but no workout clothes?
It is a very sad feeling to put your clothes back on without breaking a sweat and return your still-folded towel to the young towel jockey.
On my way to Philadelphia tomorrow and hoping that the perfect storm of Hurricane Sandy combined with the winter front moving down from Canada doesn't block my way home on Sunday as effectively as I blocked my own attempt to workout this afternoon.
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