I spent 40 minutes on my rowing machine as of the very moment I arrived home after work today. I needed the activity; I needed to expel energy that I had been building up most of the day.
I speeded (sped?) up for Bell Biv Devoe's Do Me and Kid Creole and the Coconuts' Endicott, and concluded my workout by rowing slowly to David Bowie/Nine Inch Nails' I'm Afraid of Americans. Sadly, I couldn't make my timing work with The Bongos' Barbarella, and that one will have to come off my laptop Workout Tape.
We did personality surveys at work last year that identified our personality types as one of four. Mine was dominant—no surprise. So why can't I get comfortable inside my dominant skin?
To all those I have offended through my blunderbuss tendencies, I do apologize. I really do. I meant you no harm (save for that one dude). This time, however—even after my rowing escapade—I continue to feel like I am owed an apology. Perhaps the activity wasn't such a good idea. What does one do when one just feels wronged? Maybe I'll feel differently in the morning. [sigh]
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