On this most auspicious of days, I took myself off to the Health and Wellness Center for BMI measurements. Now this is something even the relatively fit people were balking at, so you know how thrilled I was about this process. Root canal, emergency appendectomy, explosive diaherria: all sounded like better options than the tapes and calipers. This is why there were only three people (out of about 55 that atteded the fitness class introduction) who signed up for today's torment until Nurse Laurie, Evil Overlord of H&WC, wrangled 30 of us to come in.
She's scary.
I went out after work and got myself a nice pair of new sneakers (they are white and have wee crystals on the tongues) for next week's session, so yeah, I'll give it a shot for one or two classes and see what happens.
In other news, apparently my co-worker's son is now teammates with David Beckham. He was drafted in the...uh...soccer draft that happened this week. I am soccer ignorant, so when the guys were going LA Galaxy, I was like, "Are they good? I don't know soccer."
Them: "You might have heard of some of their players. Like this one guy. David Beckham."
Me: "Mmmm. Yeah. He's...nice." I did not go on to say, "And should be slashed ten ways to Tuesday." But I wanted to.
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