Wednesday, August 25, 2010

The Loneliest Treadmill

There is a treadmill out there that is lonely. I keep meaning to visit it at the gym, but it hasn't happened once this week. I come up with lame excuses like, "It's too rainy to go to the gym. My sneakers will get too wet!" There's nothing worse than squishy sneakers and wet socks.

I've also managed to pull off the tried and true, "I'm getting back into the swing of things at work." This is not a complete lie.

But the poor little treadmill still remains unvisited.

Meanwhile, I've also neglected the Cuckoo's Nest. I realized it when Joe came home from work. I had dinner ready, and was reclining in his favorite chair (kindly keeping it warm for him). Joe sat down in front of the laptop and began to surf the net. This has become a habit--he is on the laptop constantly, looking up minute details and facts. For example, when I tied him down and forced him to watch the "Pride & Prejudice" mini series, he felt compelled to look up whether Pemberly was real or fictional. And to think this whole time I just accepted it as part of the setting and allowed myself to watch and enjoy the show!

I actually am going somewhere with this.

Joe sits down tonight, starts typing on the laptop (big surprise), and all of a sudden says, "You're behind on your blog, lady."

To which I reply, sighing, "I know. I'm just so busy this week." I look down at my crossword puzzle and say, "While you're on there, could you look up the last name of a baseball player named 'Rusty'?"

And Joe can't stop himself. "Oh, yeah...you're reeeeaaaal busy there."

You mean that cooking dinner, warming his recliner, and working crossword puzzles while listening to thunderstorms doesn't sound like a lot to do? I've been thinking about this. A lot. The first week back to school is tough. I've spent so much time trying to engage my students that I haven't been actively engaged in anything I want to do for myself. Things will settle, I'm sure, but I do worry that these gym sabbaticals I keep taking are getting progressively longer and longer.

And the poor little treadmill gets lonelier and lonelier.

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