Oddities and Commodities...

Too long. Since my last post that is.

I am sure there are millions of Americans waiting in suspense and

wondering if that Emily girl has aborted her mission as she has her

post.

Au contraire!!

While the posting has been suffering, my journey has been

progressing. Phew. You can relax now.

See...I told you I was in it for the long haul.

No turning back now.

This week was just one of those weeks for me. Returning after

vacation. Beginning of new year. I had so much follow up to

handle at work I cannot even begin to tell you. I am busier than

ever meeting with customers and getting deals on the table.

Believe me when I say I wouldn't have it any other way.

Because my schedule was so chaotic and jam packed, it was a

great cross roads for me to be at.

This was going to test my priorities. After 12 hour days, my true

colors were going to show. And they did. I found myself hitting the

gym. Day after day. As I was leaving work in the dark, I found

myself looking forward to turning up the music on my way home

and getting my running sneakers on.

That to me proved progress. Maybe more than feeling saucy in

my jeans.

The gym is indeed a wild place to be. Depending on my arrival

time, the shift of people is different.

For some reason, I must have "Talk to me" written on my t-shirt

because I am a target for odd conversation. From the guy who

decided to make a point about a family member killed in Balto

yesterday and his brother already wearing a homemade colored

t-shirt in his brother's honor...to the girl asking me about the latest

development in David Hasselhoff being kicked off of "America's

Got Talent."

Very colorful people I sweat with.

And very colorful I become when I sweat. My mother is the originator

of the "my face is purple because I exercised" look. She has

delightfully passed that along to me. Even when I was in middle

school after a rousing game of dodge-ball, my gym teacher inquired

if I could breathe okay because my face was reminiscent of a

blueberry. Does anyone know if this is genetic or has to do with a

poor breathing process?

Oh well. If you see me running on the side of the parkway, I am not

passing out, but rather pushing on.

- Emily