Exhausted

Last night I was so tired that when I went through my bag this morning at the gym to pull out my work clothes I discovered that I had three pairs of clean underwear, but no bra.

Technically I had a bra, the sports bra I was wearing underneath my workout clothes. The one that was about to get extremely damp and smelly from my workout. The one with a really thick band that dries really slowly and itches like crazy until it does.

A kind woman rescued me from potential sweaty or bra-less misery by loaning me a spare she had in her bag. It was too small, too loose and had no elastic left, but it was something. I wore it to work and as soon as I could, I bolted across the street to a truly awesome lingerie store to purchase one that fit.

Since I started this new job I have been going to the gym in the morning. I can't say that I enjoy waking up between 5:00 and 6:00 AM to pull on workout gear and catch the bus. In fact, I can sincerely state that I really hate it.

It is a combination of factors, the least which how damn early it feels. I'm not as tolerant of people's foibles that early in the morning. The bus is surprisingly crowded at 5:45 AM. Unfortunately it is not crowded with people, but people's stuff. I counted three seats this morning I could have sat in if the occupants had not decided to spread out their possessions and then go to sleep. And I'm giving them the benefit of the doubt with the sleeping.

Especially exasperating was one man located on an outer seat near the front of the bus. Not only did he refuse to move when the woman sitting in the inner seat rose to leave, he also refused to slide over and refused to move when I attempted to take the inner seat.

So I hit him in the head with my very heavy, very full gym bag when I squeezed past him and sat down. And I did not apologize for it. Even after I clocked him in the head he refused to move when I rose to get off the bus. I nearly hit him again. And I did not apologize to him for it a second time.

I hate the gym in the mornings. It is almost unbearably hot and incredibly loud. Hot because the Y turns the air conditioning down at night and there are no windows for ventilation in the cardio / weight rooms. Loud because there is a group of middle-aged men who scream comments and hold conversations with each other from opposite sides of the room. They are so loud that I can not drown them out with my Shuffle on full blast.

And now, I go to bed.

I'm Not Going to Pile on John Edwards

Because, as I've stated before, marriage is difficult enough lived in the private sphere of family and friends. Lived in the public eye, sometimes I think it must be fucking impossible.

Reading the comments and commentaries on other sites, I've noticed a distinct pattern of response to the news. They are, in no particular order:

1.John Edwards is an asshole for cheating on the Democratic Party while running for the presidential nomination and/or cheating on Elizabeth while she had cancer. It is fifty-fifty on which of these things is worse. I got the distinct impression from some remarks that the betrayal to his party was worse then the betrayal to his marriage.
2.Elizabeth Edwards is a horrible woman for knowing about the affair and continuing to support her husband and encouraging other to support him as well instead of booting him out on his ass.
3.John and Elizabeth's marriage is none of our business and we should stay out of it.

I've addressed response one before. If you place a man or woman on a pedestal, inevitably they will fall off it. Every single time. Edwards has taken responsibility for his actions, has admitted to hubris and fault and worked towards making reparations to his wife and children. He does not owe anyone else on this planet a damn thing. Including an adequate apology.

As for response 2, WTF? Either Elizabeth Edwards is a woman with her own agency or she is not. Her decision to remain in her marriage is hers alone to make and it is not for anyone else to condemn, condone or otherwise speculate. There is this insane notion in American society that every bound couple is required to have the same kind of marriage and anything outside the narrowest of boundaries is unhealthy.

I've lost track on the commentary of my marriage, primarily because I have learned to close my ears over the years. And there has been plenty of commentary on my un-wifely, inappropriate behavior. Refusing to be the only one responsible for the house keeping. Making J buy his own socks and underwear. Traveling solo. And uncounted other actions which scream of how fully uncommitted I am to my relationship.

Except for the whole standing up at an altar making vows in front of a hundred of our closest friends and family and trying my hardest to make it work even when it is hard. Even when both J and myself has screwed up royally, in ways that would be an absolute deal breaker in other relationships.

No, I'm not going to pile on John or Elizabeth Edwards. For those who would judge the Edwards because their own marriage is so flawless, I say congratulations. I'm glad you found your one-true-love and soul mate and never have to worry about conflict or your spouse's flaws.

Now leave the rest us alone to muddle through.

Dear Gods Above...

Please bring Hockey season back soon. One more story about how Big Ben had to leave Steelers training camp early for the second day in the row just might kill me.

Thanks.

Me.