The Perils of Living With 42 Guys

Okay, Okay. Maybe it’s not 42, but it’s a lot.

On to the real post:

I have finished week 4 of Insanity. I now have a “recovery week” where I do something resembling yoga. And then the hard part starts. The second month is the first month times 7, divided by ‘really hard’, and added to ‘fear’. The solution is ‘I’m REALLY scared”. 

Yay.

Today’s Exploit:

Recently I have lots of stories about boys embarrassing me. It’s a pretty normal occurrence, although not necessarily relating to my bum. Lots of these encounters I can laugh at, and dismiss to guys being guys, and some of them being sleazy. 

I can laugh that Cupcake’s friend told her my bum looks like it weighs 20 pounds.

I can laugh at how tight my work “jeans” are, and that I can’t breathe when I wear them.

I can even laugh, later, when sleazy guys use sleazy lines, and I run out the door as fast as I can.

And I can mostly even laugh at the stupid comments that they make after I leave a room, the ones that Ali relates to me at our next breakfast “date”.

What is not fun is the staring. 

We have a group of guys here preparing the site for the production stage, they set up the storage tanks and the pipelines that lead to the larger lines across the road. They also live in camp with us, while they are here. 

Of the four guys, two of them stare at me constantly. None of the four have ever said a word to me. They just stare. 

And I’m to chicken to confront them.

So I hide behind a table if I have to get up while they’re in the room. Or I avoid the dining room if they get there first. 

Tomorrow I’m going to be really brave and talk to the company man. Wish me luck, because I will probably be shaking, and have sweaty palms. And probably I’ll stammer. But if I have to spend the next 3 days or 2 weeks of month and a half with them it will be worth it if I don’t feel like I need to wear a bag over my head and dress in a tent to hide. 

Ok. That was depressing. Next post will be more fun. Promise.