class was cancelled

so i wasn't able to give my tribute to George Costanza. since i was up and about at 9:30 in the morning with nothing to do, i hit the gym for about an hour. i witnessed a lady climb onto a treadmill and then proceed to stand there for ten minutes while she channel surfed. when she finally found a suitable program to entertain her, she cranked up the ol' treadmill to a frighteningly neck break speed of pokey. i think only zombies creep faster. (you know the ones that take a step per minute and still manage to catch you and eat your brains.) when her TV show didn't prove to be satisfactory, she stood on the side railings to find a new one because moving like a slug and pressing a button at the same time might actually force her to burn a calorie. by this time, i've run a marathon on my elliptical machine and am about to start convulsing in agony. the lady then settles on a channel and proceeds her dainty workout while i'm gasping and sweating like a lumberjack. i'm nowhere near done when Mrs. Fake Workout starts fanning herself and calls it quits. God, i hate the gym.