When we set up for the WOD yesterday the instructor said very clearly, “Find your pull-up spot. Get a box if you need it. There is enough room for everyone to have their own space.” I’m fairly particular about my placement and assistance needs when it comes to pull-ups so I waited by my spot while some of the other folks found their spots too. Yes, that’s right, some. Why didn’t everyone find a spot? Good fucking question. By the last rounds of the workout there were three other people using my spot on the bar. Turns out, I don’t like to share my toys.

This could have been another moment to project kindness and patience into the world. Good for them, pulling themselves up and such. I didn’t have it in me. I didn’t even have enough oxygen in my brain to count to back from ten.  So I worked faster, tried to shrug my shoulders at the right point and get to the pull-up bar first. And you know what? I came in second.

My irritation breeds strength, you toy-stealing jerks. Boom.