The Foggiest Brain

So I had a great idea for the blog the other day. Y’all are really gonna like this one.

I was thinking about how…uh…

…there was this really funny thing that happened, and…

…what the crap was it?

Umm…hold on…it will come back to me.

Oh right. I was going to write a blog about how I had the most epic brain fart of my life a few days ago.

No, it wasn’t this brain fart happening right now in this blog. It was another one.

So a couple months ago I started going to Zumba classes. If you’re not familiar with Zumba, picture a dance class. But no one tells you what you’re doing. You just watch some super-fit person who is smiling like crazy jump around to the beat of Latin dance music cranked up to eleven. And there’s lots of other people in leggings jumping around attempting to keep up. I’m in the back flopping around trying to look like I know what I’m doing. That’s Zumba. It’s awkward as hell, but it’s fun.

Anyhoo, so I go straight from work to Zumba. This particular class I was pushing it to get there on time. I changed in a hurry, tossed my gym bag to the side of the room, and got there just in time to do some awkward jump-flopping to the sweet sweet sounds of I Don’t Know. That’s not the actual name of the song, I just have no idea what it’s called because it’s in Spanish and being shouted over loud techno music.

The Husband usually has dinner ready when I get home. So we ate and I gave him a recap of that evening’s jump-flopping. I was feeling pretty good until…

BZZT!

There was my phone, buzzing like crazy. And there’s a series of texts from a number I didn’t recognize.

“Hey, it’s Cassie, your Zumba teacher. Umm…did you happen to leave your clothes here? Because I think you did. Anyways, I picked them up. Do you want to meet up at the gym to get them back?”

I thought this had to be some sort of mistake, but no. I actually FORGOT MY OWN CLOTHES.

(Quick clarification — lest you become scarred for life visualizing me driving home naked, that is not what happened. I drove home in my Zumba clothes because I was too worn out from sweatin’ to the salsa.)

Cassie was in for the night, so I had to wait until the next day to get my clothes back. And if you were wondering, “is it awkward to have to go up to some perky teenage front desk employee and ask for your clothes” the answer is YES. ALL THE YES. You must do EVERYTHING in your power to avoid having this experience.

Anyone want to make me feel better by sharing your own epic brain farts? Please tell me you’ve had them. I look forward to reading about your moments in the comments.

Also, does anyone know if there’s an alarm you can put on a gym bag that will yell at you if you try to leave it behind? Asking for a friend.