A torturous blackballing

Bad news. I was supposed to start down that untrodden road of building up my core strength tonight with my first pilates session but because I currently have a  stupid infectious cold kicking my butt right now I had to cancel my appointment – which took like two weeks to make. Them girls are busy girls apparently.

But here’s the thing, I was holding out for as long as I could, as I really wanted to start the pilates, but when I woke up this morning feeling 500 times worst than yesterday (I blame last night’s late-night meeting) and even worse than Monday, with my head so stuffed I was struggling to breathe and with my lungs, nose and eyes all shooting out green grodies, I knew it was not meant to be. So I called the studio first thing and got the voicemail:

You have reached Pilates for Everybody. We are either in a private session or not in the studio. Please note, we require 48 hours notice for all appointments …

Oh crap. This wasn’t 48 hours I was giving them, it was more like eight hours. But they had to understand, right. I mean, it’s not like I planned to wake up with something very close to the ebola,. I left a message and waited and waited and waited some more. I sent them an email and waited and waited and waited some more. I called them back no answer. I left another message, still nothing. Not a peep. Oh no. Has our relationship already been tarnished before it even began? Have I been blackballed from the torturing? Please say it isn’t so, please, please, please 🙁

To make myself feel better, I stuck it to my frenemy old pal Blood Sugars tonight. I warned them, I did, but they didn’t shape up, didn’t even try. So, I guiltlessly indulged in some of Mario’s good old-fashioned tasty homemade pizza. Yummmmm!

Although, I think maybe Blood Sugars may have had the last laugh by way of my BG skyrocketing. Dammit!

*** UPDATE: They called! They understood! I’m not blackballed! My turn on the torture device has been rescheduled to next Tuesday! Yay!