Karate class kicked my ass last night.
The last class on Tuesday is at least as much workout as karate, and this time it was just Sensei and I. We got in a good workout including kata (normal, tension, and balance beam!), push-ups, jump rope, and so on, and though it wasn’t a whole lot more intense than our typical Tuesdays, I was absolutely wiped out by the end. I felt like my gi was on fire and twice had to take a brief break to make sure I wasn’t going to puke on the mat (a cardinal sin).
Afterward I dropped off a load of old computers at a local recycler. This meant a little more heavy lifting, and the dusty old equipment got my t-shirt good and dirty.
That done, I saddled up to head home, only to see a text message from the Wife: “Stop and pick up some mouthwash.” The only problem is I have no cash; the Wife cleaned me out a couple days ago to buy something for dinner. I hate using the debit card for one item, so I called her and asked her what else we needed.
I head into the store. I pick up a giant bottle of Scope, a bottle of chocolate milk in a fancy glass bottle, and a bottle of ketchup. I go to the checkout.
Who’s manning the checkout? A student from the school I work for. I muster a pleasant greeting and hand over my selections. It occurs to me, then, that I look like a wreck and am making a rather odd assortment of purchases.
Holy crap, I look like I’m stoned. From a teenager’s point of view, I’m obviously worn out and bleary-eyed, I must need to cover the stench of something in case I get pulled over, and I have a really bizarre case of the munchies. It’s a damn good thing I couldn’t find the marshmallows. It doesn’t help that I wander the halls like a zombie these first few weeks of school because I’m constantly pummeled with tech requests.
I can see it now: “I saw Mr. Oliveri last night. Now I know how he copes with three buildings full of teachers and students chasing him around!”
*Sigh.* And my Wife wonders why I hate shopping locally.