Yeah, well, as I type, Cinderella's ugly stepsister squawking "the pear shaped toad" won't stop running through my mind.
I don't know why.
Oh, who am I trying to kid...
Have you noticed my rear end lately?
Wait, let me rephrase that.
Despite my avid attempts at avoiding sideway glances in full-length mirrors, it's obvious that the onset of menopause and working at a job where I sit on my arse eight hours a day is taking its toll. Not only has my backside spread to unbelieveable dimensions, my stomach muscles have gone AWOL as well.
And blogging isn't helping.
Though blogging exercises my mind (what's left of it at this midlife point), my bottom half just rests and enlarges.
I am so tired of sitting. But to some degree, it can't be helped.
I get up before the break of dawn, stagger briefly to the computer, plop my butt down into my chair, write for an hour, drive to work, sit for four hours, walk to lunch, sit some more, walk back to work, sit for another four hours, drive home, sit and eat supper, settle in and creep a bit on Facebook, go to bed, sleep...
One would think that after being in a state of repose, as it were, all day/every day, one would be rarin' to move in the evenings. To walk. To run. To do jumping jacks, for Pete's sake.
But there is something about sitting all day that depletes me so.
Certainly, not parking my derriere in my chair to peruse Facebook every night would help reduce the pear problem. And no one is forcing me to sit and write every morning. I could exercise instead.
But to be quite frank, writing is pretty much the only passion I have left since the estrogen skedaddled...I can't give THAT up, too...
I suppose I could attach my computer atop a treadmill...if I owned a treadmill. I have owned a couple in my time...ended up using them as a convenient, albeit rather expensive, clothes hangers.
There just isn't enough time in a day...
But enough whining and rationalizing. I know what I need. I need to follow my doctor's orders and, as he advised, pull a Nike. You know..."just do it".
Look at the time.
Gonna go hop in the shower.
Hey, it's a start.