Okay. Go ahead and pick yourself off the floor. I know it’s warranted, but the drama doesn’t match your shirt today.
You looked at your shirt, didn’t you? No? Well if you had, it would have been beyond hilarious, and I do need a good laugh. It would help tone my stomach.
You’re wondering where I’ve been, or what I’ve been thinking since last Wednesday? I’ve wondered about that myself, and thought this exercise could help me understand that many days can pass and I’m never quite sure where they’ve gone. I’m busy, but if what I’ve accomplished was measured against the endless list of someone who’s driven to accomplish everything three minutes ago, it would not thrill anyone.
I have been exercising. Since last Monday, I’ve walked about 21 miles — more than half at about 5:30 in the morning. My feet feel like it, too. At least my muscles have stopped screaming obscenities at me. The highlight of the week happened yesterday when we were on the backside of our loop and keeping a decent pace down the boardwalk at Pacific Beach. There’s an alcohol ban on the beach now, so many of the vacation rentals that line the boardwalk were hosting parties. That allows the drunks do things like walk up to passers by and within a few inches of their faces say stuporous things like, “Just get in the house!” while jabbing a finger toward the door and breathing sour beer breath and flinging spittle. “Um, thank you, no?” What a pig.
I did find something cool to map walking routes and calculate distances, though. Have you seen Google Map Pedometer? Find the red marker, zoom in, and you can see the route we walked yesterday. Spiffy, huh? No more wondering why my tongue’s hanging out toward the end of a good walk. You know, verify the torture while playing with yet another distraction on the web.
And I’ve been cooking. This is not news, you say? I know, but it does take time. Besides, I bought three new cookbooks and have been enjoying some of the new recipes. Unfortunately, I only got one of these cupcakes because they were made for someone else. The bright side of that is that I had fun, and didn’t end up eating a million calories. No comment on how many fingers I licked in the process.
Oh, and big news alert! The downstairs is about as clean as it’s been in a while, the patio has had all the damp leafy remnants of winter raked and green weeds from the rains pulled.
See what I mean? Not much. No lounging at the computer looking for new sites, or visiting old ones to check in and say hello. I haven’t read the paper, I watch TV when the MoH gets home after eight, and am too tired to read before bed anymore.
Could I get about six more hours each day, please? That would be good.
I’d like that.
I’d also like one of those giant balls to sit on when I am at the computer. Then I might be able to write about how anyone can strengthen their core while they blog and make a zillion bucks. I would be the one making the zillion bucks. Not the blogger. Feh. If I’m going to write anything, it won’t be that.
No, instead, I’ll write about patience. I’ll write about empathy, and understanding. About regret and remorse. Guilt. And fear. I have quite a bit to say about those emotions and the havoc they wreak on families who aren’t synchronized.
But I’ve gathered some patience over the years, so that will have to wait, too.
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