Dear Gym

I know we haven't had the best relationship lately. Things have been kind of rough for the both of us. Me with classes and you with those, those other people. But last night I tried to make that all up. I walked through your open doors and you embraced me with the humid odor filled air of chlorine, sweat, and disinfectant. I didn't complain, I just vowed to breath through my mouth.

I climbed atop one of your no so technically savvy machines. I even told you my real weight and age. You didn't ask for my name but that's okay, I'm sure you remembered me. I gave you 45 minutes of my undivided attention. It was spiritual. I haven't felt that great in a long time. I guess I just wanted to thank you for making me see the truth. Things between us can actually work. I promise that I'll visit daily even though your image was ruined by my biology professor. Apparently Gymnasium means "where the naked men work out" in Latin. So even though I enjoyed my work out, I couldn't help but imagine the fat old man on the bike naked. So, yea...thanks.

P.S. Went to the mall and bought black high-heeled flip flops which where greeted with "Only you would wear high heeled shower shoes". Yep...I know. Bought slinky, black slip dress for sorority's formal. Shopping mission accomplished.