When we pulled back into San Diego for good Wednesday after spending three months in the world's most claustrophobic hotel, I rejoiced. I gazed lovingly into my full sized fridge, spun with outstretched arms in our second bedroom, intentionally dirtied more dishes than necessary just to have the joy of sticking them in the dishwasher, and strongly fought the desire to lay face down on the dining room table from the sheer joy of not having to eat three meals a day on a loveseat anymore. Then reality hit . . .
Sam: "We should probably clean this place before putting everything away. It is pretty dusty."
Laura: "Clean?!? Oh crap."
As I grudgingly got out the 409, I found part of me wishing I was back in Port Hueneme, conveniently vacating my room at approximately 1:30 everyday for housekeeping. Sigh. The grass is always greener on the other side.
I know, I know--I haven't blogged in like a month. I go on kicks and just haven't felt like it. Maybe I will start being better and maybe I won't. But here is one for now . . .
That's right, people. That is my name on the official group fitness schedule!
I got my group exercise certification (actually months ago but I have been putting off posting), and I taught classes up in Port Hueneme for the past couple months. Woohoo! I have now taught Step, Pilates, Weight Training, Zumba, and even started a Hip Hop class on base. I LOVED IT! I have to say that my favorite class to teach was Zumba Gold, aka. Zumba for senior citizens. Hilarious. There are about six little old ladies (and I mean probably late 70s or early 80s) that would come to shake it on Friday mornings. Awesome. My goal: be the spunky when I am 80!
Now I just need to find a job down here in San Diego.