I was at the gym yesterday and other than creepily staring at the slamming hot body trainer’s legs from afar, I was there actually working out. I hadn’t been in the gym for awhile so I really forgot about locker room etiquette. I was bending down untying my shoes after my workout when I came up slowly and suddenly I froze up like a deer in headlights; only I was frozen and staring down the shaft of an old man’s penis. It was as bad as it sounds. I wanted to look away but the steaming pile of geriatric dong was memorizing. I wondered just how many stories it had and the places it had been. It was like a horrific car wreck that I couldn’t look away from. Then all of a sudden it winked at me, I shit you not. The hole opened and shut plain as day. Then it did it again, open and shut. Then a long open count and shut. Winking a few more times then shutting. All of a sudden I hear a grumpy old voice bellow:
“It’s Morse Code for stop staring at my dick!”
Those old guys know all the tricks.
Ok, Ok that really didn’t happen but I will say enough of that story is true that you should still feel pretty sorry for me. I have been working out more and it’s not only because of the slamming body trainer either. The docs suggest working out and staying as active as possible to help with the mania and what not. It’s always toughest to do during the winter though (probably a reason I’ve been feeling down lately). Not only does it help with the BMD but I definitely need to get in shape for the upcoming soccer season.
I’m playing on a team this spring with some peeps from high school so it should be a blast. I really need to get into shape though because the last time I played organized soccer I fell on my face about three times and came home with the best shiner I’ve ever had (literally ate the ball, what can I say I’m an athlete.) I think it’s the little things of working out and playing some soccer with old friends I need to break me out of this funk.
I’ll admit it I’m not good at handling bouts of depression. The mania with the craziness and what not is a piece of cake compared to the way depression crushes my world around me and suffocates me. Maybe it’s because I’ve had the mania my entire life and never really understood what it was inside. I mean how do you compare those feelings, thoughts, and emotions to other kids when no one in the world really understands them (which reminds me how can anyone be an expert in Bipolar Disorder, no one in the world knows what the hell it is). I’m not sure the exact reason but I do know depression is a bitch.
After a few minutes of consideration I’ve decided that I am going to ask out the slamming hot body trainer but I have to be creative and unique. I’m sure she’s approached consistently by guys wearing baseball caps when they work out and shooting up in the locker room so I have to make a lasting impression. This is going to be difficult because I don’t even know her name but I love a challenge (first thing first though, I gotta learn Morse Code).
Since many of my manic experiences involve music I’ve decided to add random music videos to the blog for my enjoyment and your inconvenience. Enjoy!