Pull up a chair… this is going to be a long one.
So this morning, there was an open water clinic. One of my teammates asked me if I wanted to bike there, and because toting along a towel and a wetsuit (both of which would be wet on the return trip) didn’t sound like my idea of a great time, I said I’d think about it. Then I decided that yeah, okay, I’d do it. But when I told her that, she said that she was going to put her bike in her car and then just ride it around there afterward. Which seemed sort of silly to me, because two bikes won’t fit in the car, and I’d just have to hang around until she decided to leave again. So I asked my dad if I could take the car.
Then, this morning (after I had already done my riding, thank you very much), she called and said that she was going to ride later, so that I could come along with her. Keep in mind that this is the same woman who has kept me waiting on street corners for fifteen or twenty minutes at a stretch, multiple times — but that was when she was doing me a favor, so I couldn’t complain. This was not the case today — I had my own car, and it was her idea that we go together.
Now, she knows where I live. She’s dropped me off in front of my house before. But she turned down the wrong street, so of course I’m not going to be standing right at the car door — because I don’t live there! When she called and started bitching at me about how she “doesn’t have time for this,” I said that fine, I’d just take my own car. And then she hung up on me. Only to call me back two minutes later, when I was back at my front door, going to get my car keys, to ask where the hell I was. Uhhhh. Then she started yelling that she wasn’t going to fight me, and if I was coming, I should just come! (I should have just told her **** you, and left it at that. But I’m apparently too much of an idiot for that.)
She then proceeded to bitch at me about the Google Maps directions (which I printed out for myself, because I have no sense of direction — if she knew a better way, I wasn’t going to stop her), all while carrying on a conversation on her cell phone. On speaker. And for all I know, it could have been about me, because I don’t speak Spanish. But whatever. The point is, she didn’t say a word to me the whole way there except to complain about the directions. And when we got there, to snap at me that I ought to supply the quarters for the meter. It’s Sunday. Meter rules are not in effect.
The open water clinic was quite helpful… mostly in that it reassured me that if I don’t ever go to another tri stroke clinic session (which may very well happen, as will be explained in a moment), I can just let the current carry me wherever I have to go. Because after the clinic (during which she pointedly ignored me), we were heading up the beach and she asked me if I was going back on my own. Well, let’s see — considering that you told me not to take my car, I don’t see how the hell I’d manage that! I said that I hadn’t been planning to … and she said, “I think you should.”
Okay, then. Way to be a bitch. It’s a good thing I had grabbed my Metrocard at the last minute before leaving the house. Even so, taking the subway home on a Sunday, while wearing soaking wet tri shorts and carrying a wet and sandy towel and wetsuit? Not my idea of fun.
I have no idea what it is about me that just begs people to treat me like crap… but I have enough people in my life who do that, and I don’t need another one. I don’t care if she gets more pissed off at me — since I have no idea what the hell I did to piss her off in the first place — so this afternoon I texted her to say that, and to let her know that I was really hurt by the way she treated me this morning, because I don’t think I deserved that.
Turns out, she thinks I wronged her. Um, okay. Fine. Miscommunications happen, so I suppose I can understand how you might have taken offense at something even though I didn’t intend it that way (though she was bitching at me from before I even got in the car, so whatever). But I would have appreciated it if she would have been a little more mature about it and said something instead of stranding me in the middle of nowhere!
And that is why I may not go back to the tri stroke clinic; she was my ride there, and since it’s not likely that I can take my parents’ car on Monday nights, I’m just going to have to skip it. I don’t want to have to rely on this individual ever again. (Never mind the fact that I’m pretty sure she hates my guts now. I don’t even have to do anything to make people hate me. I’m so talented.)
I’m also really lucky because I think I chipped my tooth. So awesome.
We used some of my home grown lettuce in a salad this weekend:
I actually think I prefer regular old romaine. This is supposedly romaine, too, but a variety called “Freckles.” It isn’t quite as crisp as the usual. And there are these tiny little green bugs on them, which means I have to practically wash the leaves with a magnifying glass, and it’s just not worth the effort.
Long story about this product, which I will skip since this post is already a novel:
I was in the mood, however, of lemon poppy seed pancakes on Friday. (No idea why, given my hatred of poppy seeds.) But I had to use up a banana…
I guess they kind of look like lemon poppy seed pancakes. But they were actually banana chia seed whey pancakes. And they were really good. I need to have a pancake making clinic with my brother — he tried making them the other day and claims that there are “too many variables that can go wrong” for the endeavor to be successful. I disagree. Especially if you’re just following directions off the back of a box of pancake mix!
Anyway, I’m still feeling very upset about the whole saga I rambled about up there. I’m pretty sure I’d feel a lot better about it (momentarily, at least) if I went out for a run… but I can’t do that, since I’m scheduled for 7.5 miles tomorrow, and I think that I was just jumping up in mileage too quickly before — I’m going to try and hold it steady for a couple of weeks. An injury right now would be especially unwelcome since I registered for a 5K next weekend. But that wasn’t actually the crazy thing I mentioned in my last post… no, that was the half marathon.
Don’t even get me started.
Enjoy the rest of your weekend.
“Inside myself is a place where I live all alone, and that’s where I renew my springs that never dry up.”