Rescue breathing

I'm not sure if I should go here but I will....Lastnight I had my CPR course administered by the Red Cross in order to maintain my certification as a fitness instructor. This is one of those activities that I do and I do alot of but I never really acknowledge that I do it or bring it up in conversation. First of all, I am not annoying like your typical instructor. Some class instructors annoy me. I dont eat, sleep and breathe fitness - this is obvious. Also, I am really not that coordinated so it is quite a stretch to enthusiastically lead a group of 40 adults in excercises. I won't lie though - I am pretty good at it. Maybe it is not the coordination I lack but the gracefulness. Many have witnessed this lack of gracefulness. More so, most people, myself included can't really picture me doing this and I dont want people to create terrible images of me in their head therefore, it is rare that we discuss this extra curricular activity.

So once a year I have to renew all of my certifications. I have taken this course now 6 times. I could teach the class and it bothers me that I have to redo it every year but somehow every year the Red Cross changes something - like the number of breaths per chest compressions (and since I can never get the number right you might not want me to be your only hope of being saved in an emergency situation). I have to watch this video full of actors (who emphatically overemphasize every possible crisis) going through each of the drills that we have to master in order to compete the course. I really have no reason to tell this story nor is it really a story at all but I like to bring the humanness out in people and since I am great at sharing my imperfections - here it goes...
I tend to zone out in any kind of teaching setting. Even if I am interested - I am a dreamer and therefore during what should be productive hours- I dream. So as the instructor is on the floor lastnight demonstrating with her male manikin (sp?) the techniques to be used on a choking victim, I stare intently at my cute little man on the floor. He is a mixed race as I think he used to have a white face but to be PC the Cross has put some strap on darker faces on a few of the models. Point of this is that he was a little funny looking and not so sure of himself at all (what's new?). I was kneeling down and the confused model man is lying on the ground and I guess sympathetically I start rubbing his rubber forehead... And then touching his lips. Am I really saying this.....(I think people at work may have wind of this blog now and I do not want any odd looks tomorrow!) Instructor lady proceeds to ramble on and I think me and my model man are falling in love. Maybe this was a hormonal outbreak! I don't know. I wouldnt even think to retell this story if it werent forTracy, a co-instructor of mine - who tuned in to my behavior and decided to notify the rest of the class. . . And I hadnt even gotten to the kiss yet!

I didnt know I even had the ability to blush because after years of too many embarrassing moments I am quite immune to humiliation. But my cheeks turned as rosy as the red in the Red Cross tshirt my 1/2 of a man-manikin was wearing.
Once the laughter died and the humorless instructor gave me the eye - I (in my maturity) decided to take this romance a little farther and I guess during my demonstration of rescue breathing I went in for a kiss. Just a little one. I just needed to be reminded - you know? (Dad - i have never kissed a boy. Never. No worries.)

The good thing is that I got it out of my system now and I can carry on in my singleness and confidence for a while now. Thank goodness for rescue breathing!