Tuesday, September 26, 2006

"Sir, you are a saint."

That's what I wanted to say to a certain man last week. I was in the public library when I noticed an elderly couple sitting at a table. The husband was quietly working on financial paperwork, and the wife was reading the newspaper. I don't know what happened previously, but the wife was verbally berating her husband as if he were a child. She told his how horrible his manners were and how awful a husband he was. After a few minutes she returned to her newspaper. Soon she asked, "What is a nemesis? I don't know that word." Her husband answered, "An unlikable enemy," which I thought was a decent answer. The wife lit into him again about how stupid his response was, how he shouldn't add a word like "unlikable" if it really just means "enemy." (I know, the irony...) Later the husband politely asked, "May I please have 50 cents?" to which the wife responded, "No, because you don't know how to ask a question properly. You should have asked, 'May I have two quarters?' because I don't know if you need 5 dimes or what." She proceeded to call him a swear word rather unbecoming for a lady, especially one in her 70s.

So I'm listening to all this, wishing I could say something to her. I wanted to chew her out. I wanted to heap burning coals on her head by being kind. I wanted to tell her poor, defeated husband that he is a true saint and a model of patience. I wanted to tell her husband to get a backbone and fight back. In the end, I paused for a few moments and prayed for the both of them. And then I prayed for myself, that I would never act like that. Surely this is the woman that Solomon was thinking about when he wrote "a quarrelsome wife is like a constant dripping."

Thursday, September 14, 2006

I Can't Move Today

Actually, I can move. I'm just moving very slowly. With pain. Lots of pain.

Yesterday my friend Amy and I tried a new class at the gym. It's called STRONG, and now I know why it was written in all caps on the class rosters.

Basically, it was a series of weight training exercises. I've never used a dumbbell in my life, but I figured out how to add the weights and lock the cap thingie on the end.

I was doing OK with the shoulder squats and reverse flies. But somewhere around the second set of skull crushers (don't ask), my triceps gave out. I barely made it through the lumberjack chopping movement. And then the sadistic instructor put us through 5 minutes of ab work.

The hour went by quickly, and after class Amy and I were smiling and said it was the best class we'd taken so far. Then Amy called me late last night and asked, "How much are you hurting right now?" Not as much as I'm hurting right now, I tell you.

Strangely enough, we've agreed to go back to the class next week, too. I'll just load up on Advil first.