You know what is a GREAT way to kick-start your day? Taking a really long walk. Early in the morning. In the snow. And wind. While a spastic puppy tries to tangle you and your walk partner in her leash.
Actually, it was awesome. So what if the best part was when it was finally time to STOP? No matter. And that was only the SECOND-best part. The best part was when we ran into an acquaintance on a loop through the center of town, and she was going on and on about how great it was that we were out walking, and my friend invited her to join us, and I said YES, DO, WE’RE IN TRAINING, and she said Oh? Training? For what? Which of course prompted me to elbow my friend rather too hard until she issued forth an appropriate plug and extracted a promise of a donation. Woo! And hey, speaking of? Have I mentioned I’m training for a little walk…?
After the walk I came home PUMPED UP and ENERGIZED. (Also rather fragrant, but I took a shower.)
[Sidebar: I got my walk buddy a pedometer for Christmas. (Ulterior motive, thy name is Mir.) She’s still trying to figure out how to program it. So we have been guesstimating our distances based on how long we’re out. Tonight I got the brilliant idea to ask Jeeves (I sometimes cheat on Google with Jeeves) what the normal walking speed is. Jeeves confirmed that my guess (4 mph) was correct, and also gave me a most amusing Sponsored Web Result. It said
A Normal Person — A normal person online Shop Target.com
It’s official! I really can get EVERYTHING I need at Target!]
I sat down and did some work, and around lunchtime had the crazy idea that maybe I would eat some lunch. But unless I wanted pop-tarts for lunch, I was out of luck. Oh, right. Although I did remember to chisel the globs of toothpaste off of the kids’ bathroom counter, I sort of forgot to get groceries this weekend. Well, no matter. I would find something to eat in the freezer, maybe.
A box of frozen broccoli is a balanced lunch, right?
At the grocery store I realized that my bootheels seemed to be CLICK CLICK CLICKing even more loudly than usual. It’s very echoey in there. Oh well. I still felt charged from the morning workout, I’d gotten a fair amount of work out of the way, and I was looking forward to having food in the house again. Despite the clatter of my shoes I went about my shopping feeling confident, taking long strides and filling my cart with purpose.
Noontime on a Monday is a great time to grocery shop; the store isn’t crowded. And I’d exercised! And showered! And put on not-entirely-slobby clothing! Go me! In fact… it seemed like… was it possible…?
The first time I figured I was imagining. The second time I chalked it up to a fluke. But by the third time? There was no denying it. Men were checking me out. I mean, yes–what sort of men are at the supermarket on the middle of a Monday? That’s a bit scary to contemplate, for sure. But every man I passed definitely looked for a little too long. I started running through a mental checklist, trying to figure it out.
The boots are pretty nice, it’s true. Other than that? Perhaps I was giving off the glow received from fresh air and exercise? Because I was wearing jeans and a sweater–nothing to write home about. But apparently I am just damned sexy. I was feeling pretty pleased with myself as I checked out… and not just because I had a coupon for 10% off my groceries. Dig me; I may be buying juice boxes, but I’ve STILL GOT IT!
I got everything loaded into my car as the cart guy was empty the carriage corral, and was able to just take a couple of steps over his way and give him my cart. He sort of stared a little, too. I smiled in spite of myself and thanked him, then retreated to my car and slid behind the wheel.
While turning the key, I glanced in the rearview in preparation for backing out. And caught sight of my hair.
Did I mention how it was windy, today? I had smoothed my hands over my hair, upon entering the supermarket, in defense against whatever the wind had done. I had executed the same smoothing move, again, after getting into the car. And yet my reflection looked something like a female version of this, which led me to believe that I had just spent 45 minutes blithely collecting my groceries and thinking men were hot for me when really no one had the heart to tell me that I’m no Cameron Diaz.
So, yeah, that little *POP* you heard around 1:15 was my bubble bursting. Sorry ’bout that.
Back home, it was more work, umpteen loads of laundry, and a very careful check of the hair before I went out to get the kids. We had a lovely dinner, complete with exotic foods like MILK and BREAD… which almost makes up for the fact that I need to find a new supermarket, now.