Just now as I was flossing my teeth (I floss every day - did you know this about me?), I got a faint whiff of boxing glove. The memory of sticking my hand into that still-damp, smelly glove made me lunge for me antibacterial soap (which I don't believe in but I use it anyway).
And one more thing - I would like to clarify that I did not KICK box. Although there were a few minutes of kicking involved, it was mostly just punching. (Cami, I guess I could have just responded to your comment, but I decided a whole blog post would be more appropriate.) Punching a big, heavy, black bag, with fat, smelly gloves on. Punching the air is not nearly as satisfying.
I think everyone should box. I box. See, after just one day, one hour of doing it, it's already becoming part of my identity. Maybe one day I'll be like Julia Roberts in Runaway Bride and have a punching bag in my house, and when someone judges me harshly or writes a mean newspaper column about me, I'll punch away on my own personal bag with my own personal gloves that don't smell, until just the right words come to me for a nasty, stinging reply. Like I said, everyone should box.
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