Diary of an Ex-Employee - Day 69.0

I have always liked the French word "malaise". Irrespective of the dictionary defintion/translation, to me, the word has always meant something between "Disease" and "Ill at ease."

And that's really how I've been feeling this last week.

Before the 4th of July holiday, it felt like there was momentum, movement, progress. Interviews - even a tentative job offer.

Now it feels like everything has ground to a halt.

Of course that isn't really true - I have an interview this week - but my energy level is lower, networking seems to be drying up and I am resorting to online job board applications... and we all know how effective that is.

So what to do to shake out of the funk?

Going to the gym at 11 - that should help.

I should go to yoga - starts in 15 mins, I could make it if I hurried - but I am stuck to the couch.

OK, OK, I'll go!

Sheesh!

Ittybittycrazy has left the building

Later...

Well, as per usual, yoga has done the trick.

I prayed, at the start, for energy and forward momentum. And I got it.

It crystallized for me in the moment when we did Crow Pose. It's a pretty scary pose to get into.

"Don't think about going down," said the instructor, "think about moving forward."

And so I did. I got my head onto the block in front of me, balanced on my arms and, for a just a few seconds, got my head off the supporting block and felt "right" in the pose.

I have never got even close to that before with this pose.

YAY ME!

So now it's back home, preparing for tomorrow's phone interview. I've pulled out my Interview folder, full of answers I prepared two years ago to questions like "Tell me about yourself" and "If you could start your career from the beginning, what would you change?"

Also need to sit a while with my PMP Project Management manual, so the terms fly off my tongue like Jack Nicholson throwing up cherry pips in The Witches of Eastwick.

Wish me luck!

Health is Wealth - Weekly Tally

Good Girl

• 5 mile walk
• 1 gym session with weights
• 1 yoga class
• 4 mile walk

Bad Girl

• Half a plate of fries
• Half a Sundae
• Half slice Banana Bread
• Half slice Chocolate Bundt Cake

Good Times

• Dinner with an old friend
• Coffee with an old work friend
• Dinner out with a group of friends

Hello from Puppy Dog - Hide and seek

Hello friends!

 

Mama and Dada are playing a new game with me!  

  

It's called Hide and Seek. 

 

Mama makes me sit on my cushion, then shows me my toy.  Then Mama says "Hide and seek!  Hide and seek!"

And then Mama makes me stay there while she runs into different rooms of the house.  I can hear her running on the wooden floor... Doof!  Doof!  Doof!... so I know which rooms she runs into.

 

Then Mama comes back to me and shows me her hands and tells me the toy is gone!  Then she says I can leave my cushion and I have to run around the house and find my toy!

It's such fun!!!

I always find my toy and Mama tells me what a good boy I am! 

Then Dada did it!  Mama kept giggling because Dada was skipping around the house with his hands behind his back.  He kept his back away from me so he was backing into rooms.  He looked very silly and I was giggling! 

  

Dada was pretty good at the game, though!  It took me a few minutes to find my toy that time! 

I love this new game! 

Again! I told Mama.  Let's play again! 

We played lots of times and I got better and better.  Mama doesn't seem to realize that I can tell which room she pauses in so I know my toy is in there! 

We played a few more times but then Mama said something about being tired and that being "her exercise for the day." 

Hairless apes are so lazy! 

Anyway, it was fun while it lasted.  Maybe we'll play again tomorrow! 

Lots of licks and woofs,

  

Puppy Dog

Hello from Puppy Dog - Defending the Den... Again

Hello friends!

This morning I woke up and ran to the door because hairless apes were going past the house on strange wheeled things.  They were talking and making noise and I had to defend the den!

Dada came to the door and told me to stop barking and said something about "Sunday", "7am" and "I am bloody well awake now." 

He was standing next to me so I knew he was awake.  What a silly thing to say!

I explained to him that hairless apes on wheeled thingies are the modern version of Marauders on Horseback and dogs are taught the stories of old when we are little puppies in the litter.  It's my job to defend the den and that's what I did!

But Dada wasn't listening.  He was tapping his fingers in front of his light screen.

So I went to lay down on the bed with Mama.  She was making funny noises, kinda like a those machines the strange men use next door to cut the grass.  Then she moved and her foot hit my back leg and I growled to tell her that is not OK and jumped off the bed.

Mama yelled something about "Sunday", "8am" and "I am bloody well awake now."

Mama was sitting up so I knew she was awake.

Why do hairless apes keep stating the obvious?

Lots of licks and woofs,

Puppy Dog

Hello from Puppy Dog - My special names

 

Hello friends!

Mama has new names for me. But this time they are flattering!

She calls me John Wayne.  I think it's because, like him, I'm strong and handsome and great in a fight.  

Mama says it's cos I bring the Wild West into our house.  She says the little clumps of my shed hair that end up in the corners are tumbleweeds.  

Then she forgives me and names me after a younger cowboy.  I like this part because I get scratched behind the ears.  She runs up to me and says "I just don't know how to quit you, Jack Twist!"  

She also calls me after a famous TV presenter.  I think it's because, like him, I am a great guy and good with people!

She says that the carcasses of my dead soft toys, the little clouds of toy guts and my small tire toy make it look like we have a White Trash Yard.  Whenever we go outside and she notices that things don't look so great she points at me and starts to yell-sing "Go Jerry!  Go Jerry!  Go Jerry!"

My Mama loves me.

Lots of licks and woofs,

Puppy Dog

Hello from Puppy Dog - Flashing lights

Hello Friends!

Today was a great day!  

First Mama took me for a walk up to the coffee shop, where she met a friend.  A nice man walked by, patted my head, went away and came back with cookies!  He was my new bestestest friend!

Then a big lady hairless ape came long with a very small hairless ape strapped to her chest.  The small hairless ape's feet were hanging down and I had a sniff and a little lick of it's toes.  It's a good thing that dogs and hairless apes are friends, because otherwise that little foot would have made a nice snack!  Mmmmmm...

Then we walked home, said hello to Dada and got back in the car.  Mama drove me to the big park!  I ran and chased the ball and said hello to a tiny 6 month old Dachshund and two massive Burmese Mountain Dogs.  

Then I went for a swim!  It was great!

There were other hairless apes and dogs and lots of tennis balls in the water!  I got a bunch of them - I can get three in my mouth!  I thought I was being really fast and strong and clever but Mama got cross with me.  She took the balls away and threw them to the other dogs.  No fair!  If I can swim faster than them, that's their problem!  Mama can be very weird.

Then we drove home.  Mama was behaving very strangely.  There were lots of moving dens and we weren't going very fast.  

Mama was yelling strange words that I didn't understand.  I thought she said something about "You mustard!" and "Sheet!" but that didn't make sense.  Dada once let me sniff his mustard and it had a very different smell to Mama and Dada's sheets.  

Then Mama turned off the big road and we went faster down some little roads.  Then we went down a hill and a big moving den with pretty flashing lights was behind us.  Mama stopped and a lady came up to her window.  

I didn't know why she was coming up to our moving den so I was barking really loudly.  It didn't make her go away.  I don't know why - call it animal instinct - but I could tell that Mama didn't want the lady to be there.  

The lady said something about "40" and "25" and asked Mama to give her some cards and some paper and then she went away.  Then she came back and said something about "A warning" and gave Mama her stuff back.  I could tell Mama was cross.  She even turned off the music on the radio.

So then we were on our way again... but very slowly.

It took a very long time to get home.  We got back on the main road with the other moving dens.  It was so slow!  Thank God I was still damp from my swim, so I didn't get too hot.  

What a busy day!

Lots of licks and woofs,

Puppy Dog

Health is Wealth - Watching Silent Evil

As you know, distractions at the gym tend to save me from giving up/never going/descending into madness.

Yesterday we went in the middle of the afternoon, so the gym was pretty empty.  No distractions.  Boring.  Unable to tune out the pain of lifting weights.

Then she arrived.  Silent Evil, our personal trainer.  

She had a strange blue mark on her face.  Apparently DIY, wooden planks and the force of gravity combined to give her a fat WHUMP! on her left eye.  The dangers of doing chores around the house on the holidays.

Silent Evil couldn't talk for long - she was there to torture someone else.  This poor, sweet, pretty girl was a lamb to the slaughter.  

First we saw Silent Evil give the Lamb a very thick rubber band, about 2 feet wide, and make her put it around her ankles.  Lamb had to keep her legs three feet apart and walk up and down the length of the gym.  The poor girl looked like she was holding in diarrhea.

Then Lamb had squats, lunges and ten minutes running fast on the treadmill.  Thank God we've never been made to do that!  We always get the elipticals.  

As we were leaving, Lamb was lunge-walking the length of the gym, holding heavy dumbells above her head.  Her face was purple, her arms were red, she was panting.

"Just imagine," I told her, "that each step is you kicking Silent Evil."

"Yes!"  she squeaked.  "In the eye!"

He Said She Said - Sawing Wood

 

"Did I snore last night?" he asked.  "My throat is sore."

"I don't know," she said, "But I kept waking up, and that might explain why.  I woke up about four or five times, wide awake.  Probably your buzz saw."

"You were snoring too, you know!"  he countered.  "I had to ask you to turn over!"

"I think you dreamt that," she snorted.

"Did not!  You snore!"

"No you snore!"

"You snore!"

"You do!"

Yep, it was going to be one of those days.

To read more in this series, click here.

Hello from Puppy Dog - Singin' Mama

  

Hello Friends!

Mama can be a bit irritating sometimes.  She keeps singing!

Tonight, I heard her on the phone with Dada, and here is what happened:

"OK, so I'll see you in twenty minutes," Mama said into the phone.  

Then she turned to me.

"Dada's coming home!" she squeaked.  

Then - urgh! - the singing.

"Dada's coming home, Dada's coming home, Hey ho the dairy oh, Daday's coming home."

OK, Mama, I told her, I get it.

"You'll give him a lick, You'll give him a lick, Hey ho the dairy oh, You'll give him a lick."

OK, Mama, I told her.  He's coming home and, when he comes in, I'll give him lick-kisses.  Got it.  

"Dada's coming home, Dada's coming home, Hey ho the dairy oh, Dada's coming home."

Yes, Mama, I told her.  I heard you the first time.  Dada home, me lick.  Mission briefing complete.  I am tongued and ready.  

"You'll give him a lick, You'll give him a lick, Hey ho the dairy oh, You'll give him a lick."

Mama, you know I love you, I said, but you aren't really blessed with the best voice in the world.  I've seen those other ladies on the TV, and you just don't sound like them.  Mama, don't make me get all Simon Cowell on yo' ass.

"Dada's coming home, Dada's coming home..."

Mama, shouldn't you be concentrating on putting away the clean dishes from the dishwasher?  You might drop something if you are distracted by that - uh - singing.

"...Hey ho the diary oh, Dada's coming home."

Mama!  Enough already!  I'm going into the lounge to my bed.

Why don't hairless apes speak dog?

Lots of licks and woofs,

Puppy Dog

Being a Doggy Mama - Crossing Species

  

There is something strangely magical about getting close to an animal.

There is a bond of trust that develops, even with a small animal, where one species, which could kill the other, is showing it is prepared to be in harmony.

There is something very close, very tender, about a moment where my dog lies along the length of my body, almost spooning me, and sighs.  It's a rare occurrence.  

I remember, as a teenager, going to a petting zoo.  A buck licked my hand though a chainlink fence, it's little black tongue scraping against my skin.  

Even more profound, I once went to a farm with tame cheetahs.  My friends were nervous, but I loved the big cats, stroking their heads and scratching behind their ears.  I remember their fur was scraggy, not like a house cat, and their purring was so loud - like a sewing machine right next to me.  One leaned against me and I nearly fell over.  That was a slightly nervous moment.

I was also at a zoo once, where a tiny monkey climbed on my head.  My friends were laughing at me, but I loved it.  The feeling of this little thing climbing on my shoulder, my head, picking at my hair.  It trusted me not to hurt it, in spite of my hierarchical superiority and size.  In the animal kingdom, it would have been my prey.

On the other end of the scale, whenever Puppy Dog yawns, I am reminded that he could crush my neck in his jaws.  And yet he chooses to lick my face and nibble my ear.  In short - to love me. 

It is an intense feeling when he lets me put my head down on his bed, and puts his head in my cupped palm to fall asleep.  We are communing, and there is nothing else in this world like it.

Hell is other people - Listen up Barista Beeach

 

I drink a complicated coffee. 

 

I have an accent.

 

Coffee shops can be busy, noisy places.

 

And so I say my order slowly and clearly.

 

"One Grande Decaf Soy Latte and one Grande Cappuccino, dry, please."

 

Barista Beeach ("BB") takes my order, disappears around to the coffee making area and her colleague walks by her to ring up the order on the till.  

 

"One Soy Latte and One Cappuccino, Grandes," I hear her tell him.

 

She didn't say decaf for mine.  So first I think that maybe the decaf and the normal are the same price and, for someone who is just ringing up the total, decaf is irrelevant information.  Therefore BB has effectively edited her conversation for reasons of efficiency.  I pause and ponder the odds of this being the case.  Hmm..... pretty slim.

 

"Please can you make sure the Soy Latte is decaf?" I ask the nice boy taking my money.

 

He sticks his head round the counter:

 

"The Soy Latte is Decaf..... What?.... Oh, you knew that?  Oh, OK."

 

"She's got it," he says to me.

 

Satisfied, I step around to the coffee collection area. 

 

"Did you say that that Cappuccino was normal?" BB asks me, taking an attitude.  

 

Her voice asks that question but her tone asks this question: "Did you really tell me that the Soy Latte was Decaf?  I don't think you did.  So YOU fracked up, not me."

 

"Yes," I say, between gritted teeth, giving attitude right back.

 

Then, right in front of me, Little Miss Yeah-She's-Got-It yells:

 

"FREE SOY LATTE!  ANYONE WANT A FREE SOY LATTE?"

 

Ah, so you DID frack it up, didn't you dear? I think.  

 

She gives me my two coffees and I stalk out of the store.  

 

Childish, but vindicated.

 

Hell is other people.

 

Diary of an Ex-Employee - Day 62.1

Isn't it great when a day turns around?

You start the morning with a tired feeling, bad news and that awful fear that can feel like a vice grip around the heart, but then you decide to do just one thing.

Just one thing.

And so off I went to yoga.

I am not into tree hugging hippie crap in general, but there is something about yoga. It may be a spiritual thing. It may be the connection between mind and body. It may be a simple as you putting your body into unnatural, new positions which then frees your mind to see thing from another perspective. Hell, it may even be magic.

Whatever it is... it works for me. I came out of a class feeling more balanced, calmer and ready to tackle the things I have to take on today.

There was an ever so slight dip at the coffee shop - to be described in more detail in the next post - but then I got my coffee fix and all was well with the world again.

And then I had a radio moment in the car. You know the ones I mean. Just the right song comes on the radio at just the right time. And they are speaking to you, Man.

This time it was Howard Jones and "Life in One Day"

The old man said to me

Said don't always take life so seriously

Play the flute

And dance

and sing your song

Try and enjoy the here and now

The future will take care of itself somehow

The grass is never greener over there

Time will wear away the stone

Gets the hereditary bone

Chorus

Don't try to live your life in one day

Don't go speed your time away

Don't try to live your life in one day

Don't go speed your time away

I choose not to try to interpret the "hereditary bone" bit.

Anyway, the point is, life feels OK again.

And now I'm going to apply for a cool looking job I found advertised yesterday.

Diary of an Ex-Employee - Day 62.0

 

 

I've been learning some very hard lessons in this job search.

 

And here's the major one:  Don't close any door.

 

Don't think that the job is in the bag and tell another interviewer that you have something and, unless they can match the salary, you're not interested.

 

Even if the offer has been made, and the official letter is "in the mail", keep every door open until you've signed on the dotted line.

 

Because, the next thing you know, someone has given an informal reference which you can't fight, concentrating on the problems in the project rather than the fact that you turned it around, and the job offer is on hold.

 

Then the second recruiter won't get back to you, and maybe the job has been filled. 

 

So you find yourself, on the day that should have been the first day of your new job, crying into your morning coffee and  being told by your husband that it may be a struggle to pay next month's rent.

 

Until the dog comes up to you with a orangutan soft toy in his mouth, looks up at you, sniffs your face and licks your ear.  

 

Then, and only then, can you get up and fight again.

 

Hello from Puppy Dog - Defending the Den... Yet Again

 

Hello Mama's friends!

Last night Mama and Papa went out and I was alone at home.  

Then there were big booms outside!  

I didn't know what was going on!  It's my job to defend the den so I looked out the window, then out the front door, and I even ran to the back door.  I couldn't see anything!

But the booms kept on coming and people were yelling something about the 4th of July and "Wooo" and I thought there was some kind of evil attack.  

Maybe the Super Sinister Squirrels had finally organized together!  Or, worse still, the Evil Kitty Cats!  I know they are planning to take over the planet... it's just a matter of time.  

I barked a warning at some other dogs on my block and they barked back that they were on Full Den Defence Alert too.  Look after your dog because we are all that stands between you and slavery to the Kitty Cat Overlords!  We are the Thin Furry Line!

Mama and Dada left the TV on but that didn't help distract me.  There was some silly movie on with a big hairy ape, a woman in a white dress with strange round ears, a blonde guy who looked bored all the time, two robots and some man in a black dress with a speech impediment.  And lots of strange flying birds that shot out bright red pee.  No dogs at all!  

The booms kept on coming and I stood guard at the door, ready for action!  I was practising my lion growls and my Kung fu leaps and my hippo-jaw bites in my head.  Haai-YA!  

But then Mama and Dada came home and they gave me a snack and patted my head and everything was alright again.

I bet that other dogs, like me, were extra vigilant, and the Evil Kitty Cat Attack was delayed.  

I say delayed because I know those horrible cats.... they never give up.  BEWARE!

Lots of licks and woofs,

 

Puppy Dog

 

 

Divided by a Common Language - Independence Day

  

  

Independence Day in the US today.  

 

Fluffy Bear threatens, every year, to hang up a British flag, but we never go through with it.

 

I am satisfied to tell my friends - those who understand my sense of humor - that they don't know a good king when they have one.

 

To those who I know appreciate Monty Python, I yell

 

 "SPLITTERS!!!"

 

 

Being a Doggy Mama - Off Leash Dog Park Etiquette

A while ago I wrote about Dog Park Personalities.

Dog parks are fascinating places. Especially the Off Leash ones.  The dogs are adorable, but the people are interesting too. Some, however, are more interesting than others.

So here are the rules to ensure you don't piss people off at the dog park.

1. DO scoop your dog's poop

It's the most basic rule, but you'd be surprised how often it gets broken.

There are three parts to poop scoop etiquette:

• Make sure you have bags on you


• Keep an eye on your dog so he doesn't poop behind your back. This is dog walk time, not day dream time, not cell phone time.


• Do the scoop. Even if he pooped somewhere off the beaten track, trust me, other dogs will find it and other humans may step in it. Do the right thing.

If you don't do it, I have to keep an eagle eye on my dog and stop him sniffing your dog's icky poopie and getting bits of it on his nose.  I kiss my dog's face, you know!

2. DO NOT take a squeaky toy to the dog park

Dogs are generally good, and well trained. But don't forget the doggie training formula:

Dog + training = Good dog

Dog + training + distractions = Good luck with that

Taking a squeak toy to the park will be great for your dog, but will also ensure that you get attacked by all the other dogs, who will steal your squeaky toy.

This then means that I have to run after my dog, try to grab the toy out of his mouth, fight his panting, manic, obsessive jaw lock, humiliate myself publicly by yelling at him, finally pry the thing from his teeth, probably get my hand bitten in the process, and give back your fracking stupid squeaky damn toy that you should have left at home!

3. DO NOT whistle at your dog

Yes, your adorable little poochie woochie knows to come when you whistle.  But so does every other dog, you moron!

So there I am, having finally dragged my dog away from the water, thinking we can head back to the car and I'll have time to do the other errands on my list for the day and, the next thing I know, my dog is sprinting towards some twit who's whistling and I have to call him, grab him and get him away from the water all over again.

4. DO think before you throw

So your dog likes chasing balls?  News flash!  So does mine!

Look for an open gap in the crowd, and think about your timing.

Throw a ball for your dog directly in front of mine and - guess what? - he's gonna go for it.  Then I am back to the situation in Rule 2, trying to pry your ball out of his mouth.  Thanks.  I miss having slobber on my hands.  

5. DO Pay attention

As previously mentioned, this is your dog's time, not yours.  This is not a time for a deep discussion with a friend, for a cell phone conversation, for a cigarette break on a bench.  

I've seen people running through the dog park, yelling their dog's name, coming up to strangers and saying things like:

"Have you seen a black dog?"

Uh, yeah.  Many times.  I can see four from where I'm standing.  Keep an eye on your dog, Stupid.

The time I spend chasing and catching your dog, who was wandering around the car park, finding your number on his collar, calling you, trying to describe where I am and waiting for you to come and get him takes away from my time with my dog.  And you didn't even say Thank you.  Bitch.

Off Leash Dog Parks are in short supply, and going there is a special time for us and Puppy Dog.  Don't frack that up.

It's the little things... Summer

Ah.... Summer is here.

Having once read that you ought to stop and smell the roses, I am taking that advice literally.  As I walk the doggie around the neighborhood, I stop and smell roses, tulips, any flower that's blooming and hanging over a fence or planted in a bed next to the sidewalk.  It's glorious.

I have seen two butterflies this summer so far.  One huge orange one that flitted over my head, and a white and pale green one that landed on our lavender.

I love this time of year.

Now if only I could get a job so I'd have something to complain about!

Hell is other people - Poor Mr Jackson

 

Who would have thought that a kid on your block practising the trombone at full volume every day for the last two weeks could get worse?

Well, it can.

Because now the kid is on vacation and has his friends round.  And they - too young, you would think, to care - seem to believe they should pay homage to Michael Jackson, after his untimely death, by tunelessly warbling his songs to a karaoke machine.

Worse still, they think they can riff and harmonize.

You are not alone... (YOUNOTALONE!)

For I am here with you... (IHEREWITHYOU!)

Though we're far apart...

You're always in my heart...

Poor Michael must be rolling in his grave.

As for me, I am being driven to a glass of wine.

Hell is other people.

Being a Doggy Mama - Sumo Slam

You would think I would have learnt my lesson by now.

Do not throw the ball at Puppy Dog when he is on a leash.

Last time I did this, I ended up kissing the dirt - with tongue.

We were walking in a park.  I threw a ball near me, thinking that Puppy Dog could catch it within the reach of the extendable leash, but the ball rolled down a hill, he went after it, I had a brain fart and ran forward, thinking I could keep him within the range of the leash, he pulled me over and I skidded across the grass like a Major League Baseball player - except there was no home plate.

So we're out for a walk. He finds a ball - probably dropped by another dog - and carries it the few blocks home. As we are on our street, he drops the ball and I pick it up.

Then I decide that it will be safe if I throw the ball up in the air directly in front of me. He'll catch it in his mouth - like he always does - and that will be that.

For some reason, my high school maths went completely out of my head. Remember measuring the trajectory of an arc?

Or how about some common sense: What goes up, must come down.

I throw the ball. He leaps into the air. He misses the ball - what are the fracking odds of that? He keeps flying. He keeps flying. He starts to descend. Guess where I am? Yep, right in front of him.

63 pounds of chocolate-fur-covered muscle hits me square in the chest.

WHAM!

Ouch.  Frackin' ouch.

Big frackin' OUCH! 

Health is Wealth - Wonders never cease

I went jogging yesterday.

 

JOGGING.

 

Me!  

 

I think some kind of natural disaster like an earthquake, tsunami or snow in Nevada is imminent, because I have disturbed the natural order of things.

 

We've been working with a personal trainer, Silent Evil, and I have now reached the stage where, if I don't exercise, I get antsy.  

 

We'd planned to go the gym, my job hunting and Fluffy Bear's work got out of hand, and we ran out of time.  Next thing, like an out of body experience, I hear myself saying to him:

"I think I'll just go for a short run, then."

 

And off I went.

 

As I hit the sidewalk outside our house and tried to fall into some semblance of a stride, I felt heavy, like I was literally pounding the pavement.  

 

My mind flashed back to a PE (Physical Education) class in school when we had to sprint accross the playing field.  A bunch of my classmates collapsed in a heap of giggles behind me because, apparently, I "run funny."  

 

For a teenage girl, this kind of moment is devastating.  

 

I instantly vowed never to run again but realized, even as that thought entered my head, that there was no way I could keep that promise.  I didn't dare become one of the losers who had a note from their mother or doctor to avoid PE and sit in a classroom alone somewhere supervised by a teacher who really didn't want to be there.  

 

Here's the thing about PE in High School.  You're not supposed to avoid it.  You're supposed to be there, make minor adjustments to the PE uniform that magically transform it into a semblance of a fashion garment, stand around looking like physical exercise is beneath you and, when actually forced to do something like sprint or throw a ball, do it incredibly well.  Then the teacher will beg you to be on the school team of netball or field hockey or something or other, and you can roll your eyes and refuse.  

 

You are not supposed to actually make an effort, like you care, and then - horror of horrors! - run funny...

 

Now that I'd had the chance to savor this particular childhood memory, I was shuffling along on the shady side of the street, head down, panting.

 

I hit the park and had a reasonably good jog/walk/pant session, the Rocky music blaring in my head when I hit some steps.

 

I could feel the heat on my face - when I exercise it goes bright red - and I was kindov enjoying the sensation of moving and challenging my body.

 

But a woman walking her dog must have thought I was about to explode in a bright red heart attack, because she insisted on walking up to me and chatting.  She said she hadn't realized this park was so big and where does that section over there come out?  I panted the name of the street that hid behind the trees she pointed at, mumbled a vague wish that she have a nice day and cranked my muscles up again.

 

Goddammit, it's so much harder after you've stopped.

 

Pant, pant, I continued on.

 

Eye of the tiger, baby, eye of the tiger....

 

Back onto the street, and some arsehole in a convertible turns the corner right in front of me instead of letting me use the cross walk.  I shook my head as he came by me and hoped some sweat hit his faux leather seats.

 

Almost home.  Keep it up.  Don't give in now.

 

Pant.  Pant.

 

Then a bee flew into my hair.  What are the chances of that happening?

 

I mean, are you fracking kidding me?

 

Frantic head shaking, jumping about and arm flapping ensued in front of the houses of all my closest neighbors.

 

"Too damn bad," I thought, as I finally got back to my front door, "I guess I do run funny.   But at least I ran."