Part of the Day

I've been so focused at work lately. It's like I'm walking a tight rope and if I look down, I'll go falling into some abyss. There are parts of me that are really worried and questioning and others that are excited.
My sister called and left me a voicemail. With the wind chill, it's 17 degrees below and they are expecting even more snow on the ground in Milwaukee. It makes me scared to mention the cold here, but for here, it is cold. I'm cold. It's hard to get out from under the blankets in the morning. (Although when B leaves earlier than me, it is easier to get out of bed.)
It's even harder to convince myself that I should ride my bike to work. Luckily, it's also been raining, so I've been forced to drive, and I gladly drive in my bare feet with the heater on.
Today at the gym, Terry was working with his new big fish. It was nice seeing him busy and away from me. I was still there when he finished and got a little nervous as he passed by, but nothing came of it. He just walked on by without a word.
Some of the new kids were talking about one of their friends today. BFH called my attention to what they were saying. They were commenting on how old their friend was. Now how old, but saying he was old. He's 23. I was shocked, sad, scared, and tried to avoid thinking about it.

Terry Hooks a Very Big Fish

Yes, Terry was there again today. He looked kind of dismayed. There were a lot of people around, but he was just sitting on one of the benches. I prayed he'd stay away from me. And he did. Seems he started randomly talking to a guy who looked about 6'4 and they had a long conversation. I wondered if Terry was giving the tall guy the hard sell, but whatever he said seemed to work. Terry stood up and patted the guy on the back and they walked downstairs together. Terry seemed so happy. I guess Christmas came early for him.

Terry & the Winds of Change

Thankfully Terry left me alone today. I saw him lurking and skipped two machines and went right to cardio just so I could make sure I didn't have to deal with him today.
In other news, it's like a storm is raging around me. I'm trying to stay calm. I guess it's part of my avoidance issues. When things get stressful, I tend to withdraw and just let things happen. I'd rather relinquish control and go passive and not take an active part in the winds of change. I guess part of me just wants to push the button and stand back and let the chips fall where they fall. I feel kind of numb. I'm going dead inside. I just want things to work out!

Continuing Adventures with Terry

I sit there thinking it's all in my head. I'm making a big deal out of nothing. I'm just making this thing an issue because my life is as plain as a blank piece of paper. Terry bothered me once and he'll never bother me again. He's a smudge. But a smudge on a blank piece of paper calls attention to itself.
I'm in the gym and doing my frantic workout. I don't see Terry, but still I'm hurrying. His ghost haunts me. Then I see him, the ghost materializes, he passes by. He's talking to someone else. Good. I move on. Keep moving. Keep moving. I'm in the corner working on my shoulders. He approaches. It's earlier in the day than I'm used to going to the gym, so there aren't many people in the gym. There is absolutely no one between me and him. I write fake text messages that I'll never send in between sets to keep busy.
Why does Terry keep coming around?
Keep up the good work.
Everything will work out fine.
I must admit, I want to know what's up with him, with his gray hair and mustache, with his pot belly, with his black shoes and pants and white socks. He looks like he would be at home playing Santa Claus. Do you have a wife, Terry? Do you have kids? What's your home like? What's your favorite movie? How many times has your heart been broken?
I'm still thinking of things I can tell him if he talks to me, mean things. Things that will make him never want to bother me again. I turn away and look out the window.
He leaves. I continue. I move on to a new machine. Terry has disappeared. I move on to another machine. Terry reappears. He's approaching. He reaches out his hand for me to shake. I oblige.
"That's not a shake," he tells me and makes me shake his hand again.
I laugh nervously.
I can't use any of my lines. I can't be mean to him. It's a weird personal quirk, I tend to only be able to be mean to people who mean something to me. Only those I love are witness to the true depths of my evil.
"So, do you want to bulk up?" he asks.
I thought we had this conversation.
"No," I say and laugh nervously.
"You're sure?" he asks.
I still know that not wanting to bulk up is like poison to him.
"Yes," I say. I mean, I wouldn't mind bulking up, but it's not my main goal in life.
"I saw you working out shoulders before," he says.
I laugh nervously.
"You know, you could look like Clark Kent. You could be Superman," Terry tells me.
Really, Terry? I'm sure you use the same line on every small, nerdy guy with glasses.
I laugh nervously.
"That doesn't really interest me," I reply.
"Are you sure?" he says, surprised.
I laugh nervously.
"I'm going to get you to do a fitness assessment," he says.
He must be trying to use the power of positive thinking. Is he reading Tony Robbins? He must be trying to manifest.
I laugh nervously.
Finally, he walks off. I can go back to my music. I need the soothing tones of Jenny Lewis, Rilo Kiley, She & Him. A moment. Oh no, he's coming back.
"Wait a minute. Are you afraid of success?" he asks me.
What is this? Is this part of your power of positive thinking Tony Robbins thing? Is this your secret weapon that's going to break me down, make me call you and schedule a fitness assessment?
Well, Terry, yes. I'm afraid of success. I'm also afraid of failure. I don't like to take chances. I box myself off so I can avoid anything and everything. I like to play it safe. I don't like the unknown. My life is sectioned off. I keep myself back from opportunities. I find it easier to say no. I'm scared of the world. Do you really want to go into this now? Do you want to know my fears? Do you want to know about my childhood?
He asked me if I was afraid of success.
"No," I answer.
"Okay. Just wanted to check," Terry says and walks off.

Yellow Trans Am & More Terry

I had a dream last night that I bought a yellow Trans Am. I was just driving by and knew I had to have it. It was in great condition and the guy let me have it for $8000 just because he knew I wanted it so badly. It was dirty and so I got it washed and it came out looking like new. I ended up driving it to a record store in the city (it was a cinch to parallel park) and after I went inside, I realized I had forgot to put money in the meter. So I went out and found the parking enforcement lady at the car, but she was so impressed by it, she just said to put in some change.
In other news, my workout was once again rushed. I saw Terry and started darting from machine to machine again. In between sets I would tie my shoes over and over or stretch out for fear he might judge me for taking too long. While I was using the free weights, he came over to put all the weights in their right places and was only a few feet away from me when doing so. He said something to me, but I didn't hear him. I noticed he had trouble figuring out what weight went where. It seemed odd to me, since I'm constantly rearranging the misplaced weights all the time. And it led me to the same old question. Why can't people put weights back where they belong? And why did Terry have to talk to me in the first place, leading me to obsessively worry about him talking to me again?

The Hard Sell 2

The gym yesterday was a tense experience. I was working out and then saw my new friend, Terry. I found myself darting from machine to machine just to avoid him. I didn't want to make eye contact for fear he might attack. I think what upset me more thinking about the whole situation with him is that he obviously went after me because I'm smaller than all the normal loud, 'roided out manly men and I'm sure he assumed I wanted my own imposing physique. He never seems to bother the guys who slam weights around and never put them back after they use them. I saw him go after one of the older guys too, so I guess I'm not alone. I found myself coming up with things to say to him so I could be ready in case he bothered me. Alas, I was able to avoid him by just cutting my workout short when I saw him nearing again. I ran to the cardio machine and never looked back.

The Hard Sell

One of the reasons I like the gym is just because of the enjoyment of getting away from work and doing something semi-productive with the time I don't have to be there. I know I take my time and probably don't lift correctly or count the time between sets right, but whatever. It's partly meditative and restoring just getting away. I like listening to my music and zoning out, nothing more and nothing less. That's why it was a rude awakening to be bothered yesterday by Terry, a trainer. He came up and introduced himself in the middle of my workout.
"So, what are you trying to do there?"
"I'm just trying to stay tone."
The words were blasphemous to Terry.
"You mean you don't want to gain muscle?"
"No," I told him.
I thought that would get him off my case. But after asking me my age and telling me I looked a lot younger, he launched into a monologue about how I would be more impressive to girls with more muscle and I needed to watch out because once I got older, I could be walking around with a spare tire.
"You like girls, don't you?" he asked.
"No," I answered, getting a slight, horrible flashback to when I came out to my parents at a Burger King.
Unlike my parents, Terry seemed to selectively not to hear my answer.
"You have to be careful asking that around here," he chuckled.
"Yeah, it's Los Angeles."
He kept bothering me. He wouldn't stop. I was trying to be polite. I had no intention of working out with him and he knew it, but he wouldn't take no for an answer. He kept wanting to set up an appointment. There is no way I wanted to spend any amount of my free time with someone like him.
"Why are you just sitting there?" he said, motioning for me to get back to lifting.
"Because you're talking to me and won't fucking shut up," I thought, but instead just continued my exercise.
"There's the muscle," he said, watching me creepily.
"Yeah. It's hiding. It only comes out for special occasions," I answered.
He finally left me in peace, but made sure to come back when I had moved on to another machine.
I ended up skipping some machines and just moved on to cardio to make sure I was away from him. I felt invaded in my quiet sanctuary. I sat there hoping he wouldn't ever bother me again and make my alone time uncomfortable and strange.
I didn't go back today. We had a department lunch.
I'm scared for the next time I go back. I don't want to be bothered. I want to work out alone, doing whatever exercises I want to do in whatever way I want to do them, listening to Jenny Lewis and zoning out.

Can I Work In?

No, I don't want you to work in.
I hate the gym. I don't mind when I'm done at the gym, but I'm not a fan of going. I try to avoid busy periods and never understand when people ask to work in when there's a whole gym full of other equipment. Do you really need this particular bench? Is this the only place you can work your chest? It's so annoying, usually I just get up and go somewhere else. Maybe it's my social awkwardness or wanting to be alone, but it makes things that much worse when people actually talk to me. I guess sometimes the headphones aren't a strong enough signal that I'm not listening.
I guess it's not that good of an outlook to have, but just leave me alone!

Organization

I don't consider myself very organized. I wouldn't guess that B does either. The apartment is usually in disarray until I get in a mood to make it not so. Documents and pictures and songs pile up on my computer desktop until I can't take it anymore. But there's something in me that loves organization. Today at the gym two of the workers were arranging the free-weights, putting them back where they belonged. They were having trouble spotting missing and misplaced weights, so I decided to pipe in. I got some weird satisfaction from helping out put things right. It really upsets me when things are all over the place. At the gym I usually spend a lot of time just wondering why people can't put things back where they got them. Today things were right, if only for a little bit. I wonder why they can't stay that way.