I've recently become obsessed with the show Rome. If you've never seen this show you need to go out and rent it RIGHT NOW. It's freaking amazing - romance, violence, sex and Anthony Michael Hall, what's not to love?!
When I really get hooked on something - a new blog, a new author, a new TV show - I really throw myself into it, and Rome was no exception. Nick and I watched the first season on HBO On Demand in about 3 days, and immediately after watching the season finale I had to see the second season.
Immediately meaning, the very next day. Because I'm patient like that.
So after work yesterday, I stopped at Blockbuster on my way home. Blockbuster had 2 zillion copies of each disc of season one. They had 2 lonely discs of season two - disc 1 and disc 5. Each disc has a measly TWO freaking episodes on it. I rented disc 1, with much cursing under my breath. (I considered renting disc 5 too, to hoard it, but I was pretty sure Nick's reaction to that would be Not Pleased, so I forced myself to leave it on the shelf. Even though there was only one copy, omg.)
Today I convinced Nick to go to a different Blockbuster after work in search of discs 2 and 3. (I actually tried to get him to go last night, at 9:00 when disc 1 ended, but I think he thought I was kidding.) It was really nice out, so Nick suggested that we ride our bikes over, and stop at the nearby grocery store to grab dinner on the way back.
Which seemed like a great idea until about ten minutes into the ride, when I was bathed in sweat and heavily panting my way up the longest hill in the world at negative 10 mph. Little did I know that the ENTIRE TREK was a steady freaking incline. I pedaled slower and slower until all you could hear was the frantic down-shifting of my gears. I swear I was barely moving forward towards the end. Nick turned around every few minutes to make sure I hadn't keeled over and died. By the time we made it there I was a jelly-kneed wreck, and slumped outside by the bikes trying to catch my breath while Nick ran (sprinted practically, the bastard) in and grabbed the show.
We ran across the street to Whole Foods, tossed our groceries into my backpack and headed home... as soon as that pack hit my back I knew I was in trouble. Inside of two minutes I felt like I had a ton of bricks strapped to my back. The whole ride home it felt progressively heavier, and I'm convinced that the only thing that got me home is the fact that 99% of the way was now downhill.
I walked into the condo dripping with sweat, with aching shoulders and wobbly knees and burning thigh muscles... and still I turned to Nick and said, "so do my legs look more toned yet?"