Feeling Off On Monday

Maybe it was because the day got off to a bad start.  I was on my way to work, and I was hungry.  I didn't want to stop at McDonald's, but it was the closest place.  The cashier behind the counter was so busy chatting with a co-worker that she got my order wrong.  Then she had the nerve to get an attitude when I made her correct it.

It was cold outside instead of being warm like it is supposed to be this time of year.  However, this is Chicago, and the weather does what it wants.  I was freezing even though I was wearing my late sister's old winter coat.  Just as I got up to work, I see a guy who's waiting at another entrance door for the food pantry to open.  Last week, the guy told the volunteers I was "mean".  I won't let the guy run games on me which is why he made the comment.  I glared at him, and entered church through another door. 

By the time afternoon came, I was feeling a little tired and sluggish.  My right wrist had also been bothering me since early in the day.  I hope that doesn't mean arthritis or carpal tunnel. "I'm feeling a little off tonight," I told Alan when he asked me about sparring with Sarah.  Something just didn't feel right, so for once, I listened to my body.  Sarah sparred with Derek instead.

Derek wasn't throwing his punches all the way out in the beginning.  Sarah kept backing him up into the ropes and the corners.  Both Alan and I told Derek to throw in some body shots.  He did get a few in to Sarah's mid-section.

They did three good rounds.  Derek told Sarah that she throws good punches.  "She hits hard," he told me in-between the second and third rounds.  I nodded my head in agreement.  It looked as if she had hit Derek in the eye a few times, and I winced, thinking about the times she caught me in my eye. 

As I was hitting the heavy bag later, I wondered why I didn't pick up any of my dad's football skills.  I played the game a couple of times when I was in my late teens.  I couldn't catch the ball well, and I wasn't running quick enough to avoid being tackled.  During the last game I played, some girl blindsided me so hard that I ended up with a concussion.  My mother's father was an amateur boxer, so I guess I picked up some of the skills he had.  It was probably for the better.  I was never that good at playing any team sport.