I attempted to embrace the change (I'm totally a summer girl, much much happier in the summer), and must say that I was doing ok with it by looking super cute all week. And, without trying to sound like I am tooting my own horn, I really did look cute all week. My natural state was helped by some super cute jackets, necklaces, and my fabulous coat that I got on clearance last spring.
And the only time I got hit on, all week long, was Friday at the gym. Yes, that's right. At the gym. Where I was unwashed. And honestly, wearing clothes that I had already worn to the gym the day before. So maybe even a little smelly.
I went in to the gym and jumped on a treadmill as usual, for the 1/2 hour before the yoga class. Next to me was one of the men who also does the yoga class. So he started chatting.
One thing that just amazes me is how much people will talk about themselves. And how much they can tell you in 1/2 hour.
So in 30 minutes, I learned that he is 45, a security guard who works nights at an abandoned warehouse, divorced, has two daughters, had a 4 year relationship after his divorce that has also ended (so let's just call that divorced twice). Not only did I learn all of that, but I also learned that his daughters are beautiful, one is 19 and goes to Louisiana State, the other is 10, he doesn't like their boyfriends and would happily shoot them if he could, and I learned about two of his more exciting security breaches.
And that he thinks I'm beautiful.
I hope you won't judge me if I admit I made up a boyfriend.
I wasn't quick enough to say I was married when he asked. That was kind of early in the conversation, so it didn't occur to me to lie. Until my "no" caused him to respond, "What do you think of older men?" Later he said, "Well, you aren't married, but do you have a boyfriend?" And I said, yes.
From today's perspective, the whole thing was rather amusing. But then we both went to yoga, and I was worried that he would move over to where I usually go, so he was kind of throwing off my zen. Fortunately he didn't.
Perhaps my zen could have been restored after we got a few minutes into it, but the music the teacher chose just finished the job. It started with Pachebel's Canon.
I know, you are thinking "I love that song!" Me too. So it was totally distracting, because I was really enjoying it. That was followed by Copland's A Gift to Be Simple
And I enjoyed that one too much too. And that was followed by 2 hymns. Weird.