Mommy Brain Tries to Ruin my Workout

My brain has decided to boycott 8 digit numbers. So when I choose to brave the workout room for a much needed trip on the elliptical, I stood at the keypad attempting my code over and over and over and over. Rejection is never fun even if it comes from a dumb door. To add insult to injury after each failed attempt I was allowed to listen to an annoying ‘beep beep beep’ while the system reset. And if that wasn’t indication enough that I was incorrect there was the red flashing light of doom denying my entry. But I think my favorite part about being reminded that my brain sucks was the woman walking on the treadmill who refused to look in my direction. She saw me. She knew I was there. She has seen me in the gym before. Thanks lady. Just for future reference if I was going to kill you I wouldn’t be wearing my very best zip up hoodie. Enjoy your walk while I put on my angry eyes.

I did eventually remember my code. I entered the inner sanctum triumphant. The lady on the treadmill apologized for not helping me. She has a bum knee and didn’t want to fall flat on her face while running to my rescue. Wow, I’m a judgmental prick. I turned off my angry eyes and enjoyed my workout.

For the record, I was struggling with 4 of the 8 digits in my code. Turns out those 4 digits are the same as my apartment number. Apparently the management decided this would help people remember their codes. Boy are they stupid.

Brain Fart

I towed my kids to my sister's volleyball game. While there, little Rosie filled her pants with chocolate squish and needed a change. I collected my gear and carried her to the bathroom. Instant annoyance. No changing table. Who doesn't have a changing table these days? A large number of places even have changing tables in the men's restrooms these days. But Noooooooo. Not here.

Before I had the chance to complain to the whole world my brain finally caught up to the real world . . .

I was in a middle school.