Did my muscles let go of my thigh skin?

I walked by the mirror in my closet-room today and saw something no person should have to see.  The skin on my legs wiggled a little bit.  I even walked backwards and tried it again in slow motion.   My thigh skin used to be tightly connected to my muscles; it wasn’t a separate entity?  So, I did what any reasonable middle-aged woman would do. I grabbed my car keys, hauled ass, and joined a gym.  I approached the counter,  like a person buying drugs in a hushed voice and their darkest sunglasses. It went something like this, whispering, “Excuse me, I think I would like to join the gym.”  I even did the finger-pointing thing that looks like you are pushing buttons in the direction of girls on a treadmills. Just incase she didn’t know what I was talking about.  As the girl started to fill in my information, I glanced around and pushed my ray bans further up my nose like I was doing surveillance.  Did I mention, I was already sweating from the walk in and I had yet to take the complimentary tour?  I thought I was being really clever during that by holding my bag in a way that masked my exposed thighs.  Actually, I clung to it like a security blanket.  I’m planning on letting the jumbo bag go tomorrow and moving up to an adult sippy cup that fits in that hole built right into the elliptical.


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