My Mondays are always crazy but I'm still that girl that, come Monday night, I have a bit of a mini panic attack at the notion that the first day of the week already is finishing and was I productive enough?!
I'm really trying to work smarter and not just harder, so multitasking and lining up my things-to-do appropriately has been key. Today, I as went from coaching my last client to heading into the boxing club for my own training, I thought I'd down my preworkout and slip into the bank for a quick errand.
Wrong thing to do!
Note to self, limit your people-interaction to just those at training when you have preworkout.
Preworkout kicked in a bit too early, I think it's because I was a bit dehydrated, so then I suddenly became super antsy and fidgety at the bank. Wrong thing to be when it's a massive bank branch office like this and apparently the only other clients sitting with you are big time bankers. I sat there for about 10 minutes with only 2 others in front of me but then the preworkout kicked in. I managed to survive another minute and a half before I was up, out of my seat, and looking for the manager or someone to complain to.
"Hi, you've got about 11 tellers, 3 clients, and about 10 minutes of my time wasted waiting for someone to help us. How can you help me?" And just like that, I was helped the man I approached.
Wow, I was pretty aggressive. And as the words came out of my mouth I was shocked but not surprised. These would have been words that I just throw around in my head but when that preworkout kicks in there goes my strainer. It just flies out and the ears of others are what catch it.
Coming home from boxing, that was another story though. My preworkout had obviously died out and now it was just the endorphines from having had such a good workout that got me home. But I didn't go straight home. I thought I'd pop into the immigration office first to get my passport back because it was on my way home. I thought it was a smart idea. Smart, sure, but not the most polite thing to do considering I was drenched in sweat and was pretty much carrying my body weight in wet gym gear in my equally wet bag. Trying to stay clear of anyone catching my stench failed epically when I got stuck in a packed elevator in the immigration tower. It seemed to stop at every single floor. I tried to stay as still as I could, as if moving my arms or legs would release more smell. Some people coughed while one man gave an obvious choke sound. They nor him looked at me but I think that's only because they feared their eyes burning at the sight of my gym nastiness. It was bad enough that they already had me violating their noses and making them gag. They didn't want to lose their sight too.
Note to self, shower first before you go into public. You don't want to be known as "the smelly white girl" because it's not like there are so many of us around here. They will remember you!
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