RitzyToo! April-May 2014 | Page 59

Humor at the Beading Table club parking lot. Randy was impatient with me, insisting that my, not so muffled screams, were annoying other club members. His voice becomes a little too perky for this early in the morning when he scolds me—his voice takes on this nasally kind of whine that is highly annoying. My chest hurt when I got on the treadmill so Randy put me on the Stair Monster. What kind of sadistic fool would invent a machine meant to simulate an activity made obsolete by elevators and escalators? Randy assured me that all this would help me get in shape and enjoy life more ... he said some other nasty things too. THURSDAY: As usual, Mr. Full of Himself was waiting for me, staring at his watch, with his thin cruel lips pulled back in a full on snarl. I couldn’t help being a half hour late ... it took me that long to put my shoes on. Randy took me over to work out with dumb bells. When he wasn’t looking I fled into the ladies’ room. He sent Helga in after me, and then, as punishment, he put me on the rowing machine SATURDAY: Randy left a message on my answering machine in his grating shrill voice wondering why I didn’t show up today. Just hearing his nasty voice made him want to smash the machine with my planner. The fact is, I am too weak to even work the TV remote and ended up catching eleven straight hours of the weather channel! SUNDAY: Ok. I am having the church van pick me up for services this morning so I can go and thank God this fantasy is over. I will also pray that next year year my husband will choose a gift for me that is fun-- like a root canal! FRIDAY: I am laying in my bed, seemingly unable to get up, and thinking about how much I hate Randy... more than any other human being on the planet. Stupid , skinny, anaemic little cheerleader wanna-be anyway! If there was any part of my body I could move without unbearable pain I would seriously beat him with it. Today, Randy wants me to work on my triceps. I don’t have any triceps! And if you don’t want dents in your floor, then don’t hand me anything that weighs more than a sandwich. This treadmill flung me off, and I landed on the health and nutrition coach! Why couldn’t it have been someone softer like the drama coach or choir director? RitzyToo.com | RitzyToo! | April-May | 59