*This damn job is getting on my nerves.*
Maxine put her head down on her desk. Fed up with Outlook e-mails and adults who don’t read, she dumped out her purse trying to find change for the vending machine.
A two lip sticks, an old party flyer, condoms, and two dimes landed on her files. A whole quarter short of a delicious sweet snack.
*This is bullsh*t. No, no, this is the universe telling me I don’t need to
cheat on my diet. I should work out instead to ease some of this
She’d been doing the “get fit” thing for a few weeks and only recently
added a personal trainer to her repertoire. Mark was everything she needed to maintain work out motivation. His voice was smooth, deep and encouraging. His routines were legendary. And most of all, she could see his package bulge over her when he spotted her for squats. Even in loose clothing he couldn’t hide that almond butter surprise he was keeping below the waist line.
“Focus hoe, focus”, she’d repeat to herself so that he didn’t catch her
Although he wasn’t going to be her trainer tonight, he never worked on
Fridays, she was picturing his dimpled smile. It was all the motivation she needed.
Maxine decided to walk to the gym today to help burn the calories.
Motivational posters of skinny women and food with no taste encouraged her that she could be just like them she walked into the gym. Maxine entered the locker room and changed into workout clothes. She checked out her expansive ba-dunk-a-dunk in her grey workout pants and made it jiggle a little. Laughing to herself, she pulled her long hair up into a messy bun, pressed play on the iPod and hit the main floor.
No one there but the usual – the blonde girl running on the treadmill with the speed set on “die”, a couple, and the man who makes strange noises when he lifts. She stood straddling the treadmill deciding between the “weight management” setting and the “other shit” setting when someone tapped her hand.