Making Amends

Day 6

bonus view

I just looked through some past posts here and I feel like I have to say it. I do have a job and I do work. But, I also seem to live a life of pure leisure. I mean, come on. My biggest problem is that I can't find time to work out because I'm headed to a dinner party? My goal is to be able to hike a mile along some trails at a resort where I live? I can actually spend 90 minutes mowing my lawn?? I want to apologize for parading this life around.

While it's true that I have a full-time job and I have freelance clients to fill my evenings, it is also true that I live in two different places (one in the mountains and one along the coast) and I have no children so I can live this lovely, selfish life without much responsibility. If it gets annoying, let me know. I am always just one step away from smug and I really do try to keep that in check.

dragging ass

Here's what I can report. I went for a hike yesterday for an hour (I swear I have a job) with a very willing companion and an even more willing canine. My hiking companion is in great shape. I swear, you could bounce a quarter off her. I was going to say "bounce a quarter off her ass," but it's all her. You could bounce a quarter off of her. Anywhere off of her.

With that on my mind, I was more than  slightly demoralized when she pretended to stop and inspect something on the side of the trail. Many times. And, I gladly accepted the break. When I started huffing and puffing, she offered up an excuse for me. "It's because you're talking."

made with love

But I knew the truth as my lungs screamed and my legs burned. I am an out-of-shape weakling. When I got back to the office, a friend had left a sandwich from a local store on my desk, accompanied by delicious chocolate/toffee bars, which she made. I devoured all of it. If it's made with love, I can eat it, right? What? My game, my rules.

two martinis + glass of mead = sleepover

On the local food front, I met a friend for dinner at Seagrass Bistro. Local food, local restaurant. I ran into a dilemma when I checked the menu, though. I am fully prepared to bend my rules if a local restaurant serves Pringles. But, what about veal? I can't eat veal, can I? I think foie gras is off the list too. So, here's my new amended rule. I can eat anything at a local restaurant unless it makes me squeamish...or I can eat if I know for a fact it will be the best I have ever eaten. If Cleonice is serving veal? I'm eating it.

Here's another rule--or habit, really--that I need to embrace. I need to travel with a cooler filled with fruit and snacks. This morning, driving back from my friend's house after sleeping over--see "two martinis" in the picture above--I stopped for coffee. Gulp. At Dunkin' Donuts. But it gets worse. I also ordered something to eat. I had to. The gaping hangover yaw in my belly needed something. As punishment, I ordered something called a flatbread egg white sandwich or some such thing. It was all chemical, all cardboard, and all kinds of catastrophic. That'll teach me to carry a cooler!

While we're talking about Dunkin' Donuts, I have to admit, after realizing we were out of coffee at the house the other day, rather than stopping at local DiCocoa's on the way to work, groom and I swung through Dunkin' Donuts because it was quicker. Shame on me for not patronizing a local establishment because I didn't think I had the time.