Maybe. Or maybe a metaphor for the next bit of my life.
So, Friday I left my cell phone in the company car at work. Tuesday morning, I slipped my train pass [which is also my bus pass] into my coat pocket, and then a few minutes later slipped my office passkey into the same pocket, dislodging my train pass. LadyZen found it after I left the train and handed it to me as I charged back up the stairs after following a prompting to put my hand into my pocket and discovering it was gone. [My train pass, not my hand or my pocket.]
LadyZen and Trainman both left me voicemails while I was at Knit Night on Tuesday night, messages which I only discovered yesterday when I fired up the cell phone for the drive into work, messages which informed me that my office passkey had somersaulted out of my bag, and LadyZen would give it to me on the train yesterday morning. The train that I was not on. So I parked my car, schlepped my stuff up to the office, and hotfooted it over to the train station. I got there a couple of minutes before the train came in. Yay for LadyZen!
I was meditating on the walk back to the office. [I did not get on the bus with my friends, because I had left my train pass at my desk, naturally.] I seem to be developing a positive talent for losing things. I wonder if I would be any more successful at losing oh, say, umpteen pounds?
I took an hour and a half of PT yesterday afternoon and headed straight for the little antique store. I told my office manager that I wanted to go shopping. She was all for that! But I was not in the mood for Coldwater Creek, oh no: I was in the mood for a new bookcase. Found one, put it on layaway, and was astounded to learn that repeat customers get a significant discount on all future purchases.
Then I came home, cooked a single portion of fettucine and swaddled it in red sauce, no cheese. And then? then I put on my sneakers and my yoga pants and took a little stroll. [What tickles me most about the whole perambulation is that I was 99% certain of where my yoga pants and sports bra and walking shoes were.]
A hair under 1.5 miles of baby steps.
And then, of course, I was powerfully thirsty. So I drank a pint of water and got in the car to drive the route I had walked, because I needed tell you how far I had gone. And the pedometer was here at home. [Thus far, the pattern holds.]
And then I drove on to WalMart for more milk, where I also picked up a small salad and some canned tuna and a few other things.
I will now answer the question that is on at least five minds: was I able to roll out of bed this morning under my own steam, or did I have to call the paramedics?
I’m typing, aren’t I? Woke up an hour ahead of my alarm after almost six full hours of sleep, and I feel terrific! I think I might walk from the station to the office this morning, instead of taking the bus. [Or maybe not; I stood up and walked to the couch to get the scarf for the photograph below, and my hips did not want to play.] And I just ate ~ enjoyed might be a stretch ~ a whole-grain English muffin with extra flax and omega-whatzits and a whisper of butter and raspberry jam, washed down with some low-fat buttermilk.
Did I mention that when I got my healthy sub on Tuesday night, I had them cut that foot-long into thirds instead of halves? The bread was a bit soggy at lunch yesterday, but not obnoxiously so. I’ll have the rest of the sandwich today. The white [green] grapes I bought on Monday night were a little blah; I think I’ll stick with the red seedless ones from here on out. But I will dutifully take more blah grapes to work today, and I’ll eat them before I eat the things I like better [we call that the broccoli principle, chez Ravelled]. Speaking of that vegetable, which I eat because it is good for me and to prove that I am a grownup: Firstborn, did you know it also comes in purple? It probably still tastes like dirty feet, but it’s really pretty.
We now return you to your regularly scheduled knitting. Here is a beauty shot of the Lumpy Bumpy Scarf in progress.
The color? “Pansy”.
- Four years into widowhood, after one year of incredible happiness and nearly 14 years of single blessedness. Have given up perfect manicures and pretty hands in order to resume playing the soprano recorder and to see if I can figure out how to play bluegrass banjo. Singing in the shower. Still really, *really* love to knit!