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My hairy armpits

I found myself in a bit of a bind last Sunday, in what started as a mad spiral downward in my attempt to stay afloat. Issues and roadblocks kept cropping up to cause incredible frustration and uncertainty on an evening when I should have been trying to mentally relax and prepare myself for the week ahead. Let me explain…

Last week, in a nutshell, was the second of six weeks I am house sitting for a lady with two old cats. An easy job, really, except for the fact I’m living with two of the most obnoxious old men with whom I’ve ever had the pleasure of sharing a house. If I had enough room to write out everything their owner asked me to do for them, it would fill up this page. I simply confided to them the next six weeks were going to be the longest weeks of their long hairy lives, because this girl didn’t have time to do half of the unnecessary things their momma swore was pertinent to their existence.

For those of you who live out of a gym bag, you know there is nothing quite as ridiculous as having to pack all your shower paraphernalia, clothes for the workday, and extra workout clothes for the second training session after work. My week (and those weeks to follow) was further complicated by the fact that I’m driving back and forth between school, said house, my home, physical therapy, gym, and social workouts (trainer rides and group runs). The odds of forgetting some crucial undergarment or pair of socks are compounded significantly. If remembering all my clothes wasn’t hard enough, I’ve been hauling my bike, trainer, swimming bag, and running gear everywhere I go. If you thought living out of a gym bag was hard, try living out of the trunk of your car! I have sports bras and underwear sprawled across my trunk with wet clothes and towels hanging over my bike to dry.

Midweek, I finally resorted to making lists of everything I had to accomplish and needed to remember so I wouldn’t forget. I confided to a friend during one of my social runs that I actually have to write out what I’m doing, where I’m going, and what I’m taking every hour of every day. The problem was that each time I erased something off my To-do list, I remembered three more tasks I needed to complete. It looked something like this:
Write integumentary paper
Complete pediatric project
Read knee anatomy
Review patient case
Look over cardiac rehab virtual case
Study pediatric notes
Grocery shopping
Make food for next week

In an effort to make a difficult week and turn it into something more positive, I leave you with a song my good friend and DPT soon-to-be, Caleb Foss, shared with me when he sensed my stress level spiraling steadily upward. Which reminds me why I titled this post Hairy Armpits. You’ll notice on my list above I failed to include Shave your armpits. A few days ago I happened to look down after my morning swim to notice considerable undergrowth where it should be clean-shaven. It’s funny how, when I’m completely overwhelmed by life, some of the smallest daily hygiene tasks pass me by.

Somehow, I remembered to shave my legs midweek in preparation for my musculoskeletal lab, much to the appreciation (I’m sure) of my lab partner. Yet looking down to see what I’d forgotten made me remember the time I’d witnessed my first hairy arm-pitted lady swimming in the pool. I can only recommend that you not do what I did and open your mouth in complete surprise while you’re in the middle of a stroke. You’ll swallow more pool water in that one moment than you ever wanted to taste in your entire lifetime. I didn’t want to cause anyone the same disbelief that lady afforded me, so I told myself I’d remember to shave when I went home the next day, where I knew I had a razor. See, living away from home makes you realize how much you forget to pack when you need it most midweek. As I write this, I can proudly say I remembered a couple nights ago (before masters swim yesterday). Seeing as it's already two days out, and hair don't quit growing, I better write it on my To do list after I’m done listening to Little Secrets by Passion Pit. Enjoy :)


  1. Some men like women natural. Just sayin'.


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