The New Fridge Arrives... Finally

 9am. The new fridge arrives. Yay. The guys are no nonsense and get straight to work. They get the old one out, by taking the lounge room door off by unscrewing it at the hinges. And they get the new one in, obviously, the same way. Sam supervises, I continue to work and it is all done in no time. The dogs are locked in the front hallway, and Otto keeps barking, unusual for a bulldog, as if he is demanding to know what is going on.

Finally, after all this time, the fridge is replaced.

I do work for most of the morning.

I first remembered the gym at 11.30am, a bit late to go before lunch, I think. Ah, there is always tomorrow, is my next thought.

I ate 3 sausages for lunch and some salad, with different types of olives and fetta and sun dried tomatoes and soft, marinated capsicum, my favourite type of salad.

It was an easy day. A bit of work. A bit of YouTube. Just how we like working from home. Oh yes, before you get into me, remember, I signed into work at 5.45am, so I have some time up my sleeve.

2.12pm. I finally get my shit together and I go to the gym. I really have to make myself go. I’d been putting it off today, and putting it off, and putting it off, and putting it off, even with the vague though of doing it tomorrow, but then I’d only have to do it tomorrow, is the thought I kept coming back to.

The guy who runs the place, who signed me up, who looks like Jesus, was in the office at the desk. He walked through the gym a bit later, and his black shorts were so short you can practically see what he was having for lunch.

The big serious muscle bound guy is in the gym. He always seems to be in the gym, I guess that is how you get big and muscle bound. He has what I’d call a weather beaten face. He has his hair pulled up into a bun on the top of his head – actually, does he? That is what I am seeing in my head, but I’m not really sure now if that is true? He is always in track pants, which he always has pulled up high on his waist giving him what resembles a girl’s peach of an arse, rather than a bloke’s square butt.

There is an old guy too, looking kind of desperate, like his doctor has told him to exercise. He has spindly white legs and knobbly knees, which shake a little as he uses the machines. His shorts and t-shirt hand oddly on him as if his body is not used to wearing them. He looks at me like bunnies-in-the-head-lights, or rabbits-caught-in-the-cross-hairs inbetween exercise machines. In my mind, he looks terrified of something, quite possibly the tough of death reaching out to him.

2.45pm. The sad faced chick with her cast down eyes works out in the gym. She has on tight, green track pants that show off her sagging middle-aged arse, the crack in her butt resembling a mouth facing downwards puckered to suck water from a creek. When she has finished in the gym, she gets on the bike next to me with her slumped over style, and permanently defeated expression, just as I’m getting off my bike. I’m always glad when the bike portion of my workout is over, it is the hardest part, the weights are easy.

There is a cute young guy with lovely, luxurious hair who looks like he’s got a hardon in his light coloured shorts. No seriously, I don’t think it is my imagination. He keeps adjusting it as if he is trying to hide it, which just draws my attention to it. And it is impressive. He keeps pulling his t-shirt down over it, but his t-shirt is anywhere long enough to do that.

2:48pm. I’m listening to Bruce Springsteen’s Working On A Dream, a CD I picked up cheap just recently. It’s pretty shit. 

3.11pm. I’m home.

3.30pm. I’m showered 

Sam takes the dogs for a walk, I decline the invitation to go with him. “No, I’m exhausted from the gym.” Even I’m guessing that is not the spirit. Too fucken lazy my still small voice says in my head.

“Ah, shut up,” says my little-miss-evil voice.

I lie on the couch. “Lovely,” says my little-miss-evil voice.

4.30pm. Sam is back from the walk with the dogs, and he then goes straight to the supermarket.

I sign out of work. “Ah, back to the couch,” I say out loud. I stretch my arms over my head for effect.

Sam is back.

I’m lying on the couch. Yes, I am very comfortable thank you.

The sun is shining, it is a lovely afternoon.