Kick Ass Reality

I really think I would make a kick ass reality show.

My show would be more similar to a montage of guys getting baseballs thrown at their crotches a la AFHV than the stylings of "Laguna Beach."

For example yesterday's show would have showcased me fighting with leasing agents all afternoon and having the most asinine conversations like this:

Jamie: What do you mean it's $50 more a month? This price has today's date on it!
Doucheface Leasing Agent: Well it's only good until the end of March.
Jamie: (Double checks calendar) Oh, so do you mean the end of March yesterday, or the end of March tomorrow? Would the end of March Friday be better?

Completely disgusted with them I run off to my ballet class. I'm 15 minutes late and I missed the warm-up. I get at the back of the line and when my turn comes, I attempt one of these:

Except I'm closer to the ground and in yoga pants.

I'm still flustered from fighting with the leasing agents, I didn't stretch, and I landed on my pant cuff. My foot slides out from underneath me and I fell. It wasn't a "I started to fall, but I stuck my arm out in front of me and I sorta caught myself, so it was only a mildly mortifying encounter" fall. No. It was "I have no idea what happened and before I knew it, I was doing my best impersonation of a Picasso portrait on the floor with everyone running to me, asking if I was okay" kind of fall.

My left wrist hurt, my left hip really hurt, and my left ankle throbbed. My bad ankle. The one that I sprained every February for 8 years. I hadn't done it since my sophomore year of college when I got pushed off a bus. Damn English majors all wanting to get to class on time. Laying on the floor I knew I really hurt it, but I told everyone I was fine and I just shook it off.

I was such a trooper about the whole thing, I even went to yoga class after ballet.

I was walking out of the gym with my friend and we were talking about the yoga class. "It wasn't that great," I said, "But I still feel something in my--"

"Oh, what a cute sweater!"

I turn around. It's my yoga instructor. I know she just interrupted me to make me stop talking about how lame this week's class was.

"What is it made of?"

I just stood there with my mouth hanging open. I couldn't form the single syllabic word.

"Is it made of wool?"

My mouth continued to hang. I eventually closed it and swallowed. "Uh huh."

She then headed to her car and left my friend and I standing in front of the parking deck, ashamed of ourselves for not waiting until we had left the property to bash the yoga instructor.

"You know, a class can suck because of the energy," I qualified to her. "There were only 7 people in the class and 2 left early. That could affect the outcome of the class."

"She's not here anymore, Jamie. You don't have to justify what you said," my friend laughed.

So that was my day yesterday.

Oh, and when I woke up this morning, my ankle was double in size. I gave it a pretty good strain. It effing hurts.