My gym...

is probably unlike any other gym...on this earth...just like my grocery store. I've mentioned before how where we live, in the center of the city, is a crossroads between affluence and poverty. Throw in the whole UT student body and you get a strange and always entertaining grocery shopping experience. But what's even more entertaining is my gym, which is just behind the grocery store.

Now that Henry's in school 12-15 hrs a week, and I haven't found a job yet (that's a whole different post)I've been spending more time at the gym. Just 3xs a week, maybe an hour and a half or 2 hrs. I see the Vietnamese lady who waxes my eyebrows there, I see the old old, super blond haired HEB lady who has been greeting people at the grocery store at least since I was an undergrad, I see Doug --my former co-worker who is now retired but used to be the attorney for the State Auditor, I see legions of anorexic college girls (sometimes I wonder what the obligation of the gym is b/c I'm so tired of watching people killing themselves in front me...but I guess it's no different than seeing someone morbidly obese at a Wendy's...same killing, just a different weapon). I see lots and lots of Hyde Park moms who come to deposit their children in the daycare while they go to their yoga class.

Henry just woke...time to get to work.