Happy People Don't Kill Their Husbands

Working out releases endorphins. People leave the gym feeling better about themselves and their lives.

Theoretically speaking.

I went to the gym yesterday. In between sessions on the elliptical, I decided to go grab a drink of water from the drinking fountain on the opposite wall. While walking down the aisle, I'm looking upward and to the right at the televisions. Apparently this caused my walk to skew to the left. Suddenly, I am stumbling forward... slowly...awkwardly...and painfully. My left forearm eventually breaks my fall on someone's machine. I choose not to look up. Head down, eyes averted, I continue to the drinking fountain and shuffle back to my elliptical. Out of the corner of my eye, I see one of the maintenance women smirking at me.

Even the staff is mocking me. So much for Equinox being a safe place.

I finish my workout and leave the gym. My appendages are bruised. My ego is bruised. Those endorphins that everyone raves about? Apparently mine are hiding in shame.