When it rains it pours. literally. without stopping.

Well, Seattle has apparently skipped right over any sort of "winter" and decided instead to try out a new season that must be called "soggy crap."  Seriously,  I mean today is the third day that I've had to wear a different coat because my previous ones AREN'T DRIED OUT YET. Yesterday it was so gloomy and doomy that the huge ugly flood light outside my window that illuminates our parking lot, never turned off because its little floodlight brain was convinced that daylight never came.  That's how disgustingly dark it is.  I dislike it.  (press nonexistent "dislike" button now).

This morning was just as treacherous.  Continuing my crusade to get the leg line back, I forced The Trainer and Miss McCloud to wake up this morning (in pouring rain) and join me at the gym for more torture.  Surprisingly, McCloud and I roused early enough to get some "cardio" in (read: watching music videos/"teen mom" while walking slowly or coasting on the elliptical).  However, instead of minimally elevating my heart rate, we fought with a parking meter in the downpour.

Now, its struggle enough to get up early enough for the gym, and even harder to get up early enough to tack some extra cardio on, which makes early morning Macgyver missions totally inappropriate and unappreciated.  Basically one of the fancy new parking meters greedily accepted my credit card for payment, then REFUSED to spit it out, instead just teasing me with a 1/8th of an inch edge of my poor sad little visa sticking out.  Obviously I stomped and huffed and puffed and tried to grip it with my sodium inflated hands (thank YOU taco salad), but I quickly gave up and called McCloud.  She was just parking nearby and scooted into her Office building to see out pliers, or tweezers or a man to help us out. 

She returned with these items:

A Wrench.

Scissors.

and assorted sizes of butterfly clips.

Now, clearly I was in no position to complain, but I wasn't exactly sure how any of these were an improvement over the only "tool" currently in my vehicle (uh... jumper cables). Needless to say after a wicked combination of all three utensils, 5 more minutes in the rain and some serious bitching, we retrieved my card and wisely used another machine to pay for our street parking.

The workout was anticlimactic.  Due to a HORRIFYING weight session on Sunday, my legs are currently incapacitated and so tight I can't move normally.  (The Trainer actually told me to "stretch it out" to which I responded with "I am, you asshole." while I was still standing straight up... not ideal).  So today we pummeled the arms. 

OW.

During the post-gym shower/dressing session it already hurt to get myself dressed.  Putting a bra on was particularly tricky as every aspect of my shoulder was already screaming with lactic acid.  The only joy that came from that painful attempt was the fact that I was wrestling a brand new (very pretty and very pink) bra.  Which was the result of an extra 20 minutes between meetings a little too close to Nordstrom.  Staying true to my roots, I continued my faithful consumption by returning one item, spending 3x returned item's value in a different department... whee.  At least this time it led to a whirlwind of fun with a very nice lady in the Intimates section.  Best 20 minutes of the week thus far. 

That's about it.  Its gross out.  I am consoling myself with retail therapy, and continuing my quest for the leg line whilst refusing to make any substantial life choices.  In fact, just yesterday, while sitting mat my desk I somehow managed to smear a $30k jewelry invoice with chocolate.  (I'm fairly certain that there are several red flags hiding in that statement but I'm ignoring them...)

Moving forward for the rest of the week includes some general upkeep (bang trim, mani, etc) and preparing for a rather large presentation on Thursday.  If I know myself with any detail, I should start actually working on said presentation sometime later tonight and panicking about it sometime tomorrow.... stayed tuned for anxiety attacks.