Target, not the heart rate, the store.

I headed out to Target to get Son One's b-day gift. I called Sarah from my car...

Devra: "I shouldn't have driven. It hurts whenever I have to turn the steering wheel. Maybe I should have walked here from my house."

Sarah: "No, better you drove. Think about it. You'd get into Target, you'd find the gift and then what? You can't carry anything. How would you get it home? Steal a shopping cart from Target? Then you'd not only have to walk back home, but you'd have to push that fucking cart too. And then how do you think you'd feel? "

Devra: "Oh man. I didn't even think about that. Good point! You are such a wise woman. That is exactly why I called you. I needed to hear a voice of reason. Thank you!"

Then later in the afternoon I received this email from Sarah:
"Did my 20 biatch!" meaning she completed her 20 minutes on the elliptical.

Game on. So I completed my 20 as well.

Who do you think will be whining more about full body pain tomorrow?

Sarah or me?