kellementology

The slug has gotten off her keester this week and has actually moved three whole days in a row — by herself.  The VBF is noticeably absent.  But that’s because she has no life and works umpteen gazillion hours a day.  Sigh.

It’s much more challenging to exercise by myself, because it can be beyond tedious if I do my usual no-brainer route over in McNeighbor Land.  So I’ve altered it this week each day to spice up the variety, and to prevent myself from taking short cuts and sneaking back home with some lame ass excuse.  And guess what?  It works!  I should think more on how easy it is to conspire against myself later.  So far, if I had to judge the quality of my “walks,” the criteria would fit into two categories:  scenery, and thought flow.  The scenery is obvious — it’s what I’m looking at while I’m walking.  You know:

• Wow, that’s a seriously gorgeous gate on that house; or
• Do they take care of their own yard, or do they have gardeners? or
•  What is up with the hideous turret effect going on with those chimneys, and how much did they get scammed on that job? or
• What were they thinking when they bought their kid that electric guitar and do they know he’s playing it that loudly when they aren’t home? or
• Uh…poor tree.  It died the “you were blocking someone’s neighborly view of paradise”  tree death.

You get the picture.  But thought flow?  Well, it’s related, obviously, to the eye appealing thing, because if I’m “walking” the way I did on Monday — trudging up and down the stairs in my house — all I’m doing is counting and trudging, with an occasional gasp for breath and diversion of thought focused on:

• hairball stains on the carpet;
• handprints on the wall; and
• dustballs under the furniture.  Oh, and
• how in the hell am I ever going to be able to get on the roof to clean that skylight? and
• Oh my gawd.  That crack in the ceiling extends across the entire room!

So I realized that if I altered my route outside I’d think about different things, and it would take my mind off of how much I really and truly detest going for a walk no matter how much I lie about it.  I could think more about things like:

• how to get a job, or not;
• how to lose more weight, since it doesn’t melt off my body like it does in the frying pan; or
• how to squeeze another meal from that left over ham from, I dunno, a few days ago or something.

You know.  Practical things. Not exactly stimulating material here.
But then I went down to the beach for a walk.  Big mistake.  I can’t think about anything down there.  It’s too distracting.  But isn’t it simply amazing? And aren’t you thinking, “What the hell is that completely stoopid person doing walking up and down her stairs for?”  I know.  I said I know.  Okay, already.  I’m working on it.  I’m working on a lot of things.  I’ll have answers for everyone soon.  But don’t hold your breath.  Just breathe…