Tuesday, December 30, 2008

ThePeach has a run; revelation

Hi Sexies.

I know. I’m behind.

I’ve neglected you.

In a nutshell, here is what has gone on in the past 2 or so weeks: internship, writing, internship, no sleep, internship, COFFEE, 6 cover stories, around 12 clippings, one massive editor-made typo in my lede on the Saturday cover, one homicidal urge, one 8 hour train ride to my mom’s, zero available washrooms during said ride thanks to frozen pipes, one episode of kidney failure, one week in close proximity with mother, ten pounds gained (feels like), one entire giant bottle of chardonnay chugged between me and TigerCat on the couch Christmas day, one loud mentally disturbed person in the seat across from me on the 8 hour train ride home, three grunts emitted from aforementioned crazy, one failed attempt to stand up to editor, zero days off before I have to go back to school.

Ok. You’re caught up.

I had a bad day today. I was only supposed to work for 2 weeks at Universitytown Newspaper, but on my last day before xmas my editor made a subtle suggestion that I should show up on Monday.

ThePeach: Yippee! My last day!
ThePeach: *screams*

So I came back, but I was going to put my foot down. Today would be my last day. Or tomorrow. Maybe Wednesday. But I was definitely not going to work past Thursday, bitches! FOOT! DOWN!


I stammered with fear as I made my suggestion to the editor this morning over a large Starbucks breakfast blend. He didn’t say a word, but just fixed his piercing eyes onto me over his wire-rimmed glasses. The gaze burned. He waited while I gulped and tried to reword.

ThePeach: *sweats* Um, well, I…um…I guess if you’re stuck…I mean…I was going to go back to CapitalCity early and try to get settled before school starts…maybe sleep for the first time this break…but…um…*cries*…I guess….
ThePeach: *screams* ok.

So I guess I’m working another week. Including New Years Day. This could seriously infringe on my plans to drink all the tequila in Universitytown and smoke all the pot IN THE WORLD and then dance in the streets at 4am to the music of my own making.

So, I was upset.

To make matters worse, there is literally no news to report in Universitytown right now, so I spent my day writing community briefs, aka no byline.

I was fuming when I got back to FauxHawk’s. He suggested a run would blow off some steam. I grudgingly squeezed my Christmas-enhanced ass into my new lulus and trudged after the hawk to the gym. I perked up when I got there. Maybe a nice, relaxing run would indeed make life less achingly depressing.

I stripped off my hooded sweatshirt, put my headphones in my wee ears, and pranced onto the nearest treadmill. I turned my head to the right: skinny poptart in designer workout gear. I turned my head to the left:

ThePeach: *SCREAMS!!!*


I just don’t get it. My life is so tragically hilarious, it’s not even funny anymore. It’s predictable. Why shouldn’t my editor be working out on the treadmill RIGHT NEXT TO ME at the EXACT SAME GYM at the EXACT SAME TIME as me? Makes perfect sense.


At first I was shocked. Then scared. Then mad.

And then…something happened. He became just the middle-aged, balding man huffing and sweating on the treadmill next to me. He was just the old man in sweat pants, trying to get into shape by slowly walking hills.

And me? I was the motherfucking fit-ass bitch kicking his treadmill ASS!

Maybe the nice thing would have been to slow my pace out of respect for his obvious struggle with fitness. But I wasn’t feeling nice. I sprinted for 45 minutes, long after his 20 minute walk ended. I pranced along with my ipod, my ponytail bouncing, singing (mentally) to Journey. Don’t stop believin’.

He is my treadmill bitch.

I’m going to pay for it tomorrow.



Anonymous said...

HOLY CHEESUS, I missed you - don't EVER disappear like that AGAIN, okay?!?!? XOXO

soup na(t)zi said...

i also missed you and you don't even know me, but am SO glad you've returned to my world :)

Spaz said...

What about when your boyfriend's flight gets cancelled and he ends up on your ex-boyfriend's flight?

And then you see your ex-boyfriend for the first time in 2 years, and you look FABULOUS, and he stutters like the twit he is, and you have a gorgeous man coming down the escalator to wrap his arms around you.

Beautiful, happy irony.

Anonymous said...

1) "he is my treadmill bitch" = greatest thing i've ever heard
2) spaz? can i have your life? 'cause that scenario you described sounds like a pretty sweet deal!

Anonymous said...

relaxing & run just don't go together...ever!


MortalCombat said...

"It's not even funny anymore. It's predictable."

Yet no less enjoyable for the rest of us.

I can't wait to chug a bottle of chardonnay with you on Saturday.

Love and miss you X infinity.

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