Tonight Heidi had to work late and so I was going to skip the gym. Because Heidi and I are attached at the hip and cannot do anything separately except sleep, shower, go to the bathroom, and go to work. Also, she is the only one who sleeps with her boyfriend and vice versa . . . you know, if I had a boyfriend. ALSO. We have separate families only my parents call her their other daughter and what they REALLY mean is their FAVORITE daughter.
ANYWAY. Usually what happens when we get home from work is we wander around the apartment until one of us says, "what should we have for dinner?" Then we wander around some more, fix dinner, eat it while watching something TiVo'ed and then wander around until one of us says, "so . . . gym?" The past couple of nights we haven't gotten to the gym until 9, which means we don't get home til after 10, which means by the time we stop wandering around the apartment some more, it's almost midnight and then we hate ourselves in the morning. See, cause there are two different Jennies. The first one is NighttimeJennie. She is loads of fun, but not very responsible. She will convince herself that it's OK to stay up really late reading or watching TV or drinking wine even if she knows she has to get up at 6. Then there is MorningJennie. She is a royal bitch. Seriously. Don't talk to her. Every morning, MorningJennie vows to make NighttimeJennie go to bed earlier but by the time nighttime roles around MorningJennie is too tired to care. This is a vicious cycle.
What was my point? WOW. OK. Oh, so tonight Heidi had to work late so I was going to skip the gym. Did I say that already? I'm too lazy to look. But when I got home, instead of immediately putting my pajamas on and plopping in front of the TV (I am WAY behind on my Daily Shows), I put on gym clothes, threw my hair in a ponytail, and went to the gym. WHICH, by the way, is so much busier at 6 than it is at 9. Haha, 69. God. I thought I might have to fight someone for an elliptical but luckily I didn't. Because I would have gotten my ass kicked. Actually, maybe not. I have been working out lately and I'm pretty scrappy. I WILL KICK YOUR ASS!
Did that scare you? No? OK.
This is going to seem random. I'm just warning you. So, on Friday when Heidi, Steve, and I were driving down to Kentucky, we heard a commercial for this study being held at the University of Cincinnati. AND NOW. I BRING YOU. CONVERSATIONS. WITH. MY ROOMMATE. Because it's been a while. I think.
Me: Oh my god, are you listening to this?
Heidi: What?
Me: This commercial.
Heidi: No.
Me: It's for some study?
Heidi: Yeah . . .
Me: For women . . .
Heidi: OK.
Me: Who don't have any sex drive.
Heidi: Um. And?
Me: They're asking for volunteers to participate in the study.
Heidi: OK.
Me: Do you think they pay? To take part in it?
Heidi: Probably.
Me: I wonder how much.
Heidi: No idea.
Me: I could so fake not having a sex drive*.
Heidi: Me too.
Me: I'm tempted to sign up.
Heidi: You should.
Me: Only I'm afraid of what would happen to me if they gave me real drugs.
Heidi: Yeah, that could be dangerous.
Me: Like what if the drugs they gave me REALLY killed my sex drive?
Heidi: It could happen.
Me: I'd hate to have to fake it for real.
I'm not sure if Steve was paying attention to this part of the conversation. Were you, Steve? I hope not, because I think I took liberties with some of what was said. Give me a break, though, this happened LAST FRIDAY and there was a lot of beer in between then and now.
I don't even remember what I wrote up there at the top anymore and I don't care to look. Kay, bye!
*I would like to apologize to my parents right now
No comments:
Post a Comment