Two days in a row of going to the gym.
After two weeks off (I had the summer flu and then it activated all my other health things so I've just felt yucky for a while). If only going back didn't make me feel like I'd been run over by a truck -- with rocks in its tires.
Before I stopped, I'd run into a friend there (the wife of one of my husband's co-workers, at least, if our twice a year meetings don't really qualify as friendship) and she said she takes the classes because she spends an hour in them, does what the instructor says without having to think about it, and feels great all day.
That has never been the case for me.
I do not get that exercise high thing. I'm not sure I've ever gotten that second wind thing either. Exercise is painful and time consuming and I'm only doing it because I don't want to start looking like a potato. (Potato shape comes easier the older you get, and adding the stomach alterations of having two children and a bloating ..... Umm..... Syndrome, I guess, and I am really leaning that direction.)
But on the plus side, while trudging along on the treadmill, watching the occasional shiny thing on one of the 6 tvs suspended from the ceiling (while listening to my ipod and definitely not the televisions) I got an idea for a story. So far it's only enough for a short unless in fleshing out the idea I get a lot more, but ....
You know, why don't I share it? I learned some time ago two people almost never take the same idea in the same direction....
OK. It was a commercial, I think. I don't know what for. Brightly lit containers -- morgue drawer size -- but glassed instead of metal so you could see people inside. At least that's what my brain decoded in the few seconds I noticed that channel before it moved on to something else. So I thought of a sort of morbid display case of Jane/John Does, so they could be identified anonymously by passers-by or claimed by family.
I know, I'm weird.
Then I wondered why there isn't a photo database online of all the unidentified dead people. I know google has a photo similarity search already so matching faces should not be beyond our capabilities. I know it would be heartbreaking to find your missing loved one yourself in a national database of unidentified, but I've heard people say it's better to know.
But that will hopefully turn into a new short story, so hooray gym. Also boo, because my feet hurt. Apparently half hour treadmill times in my (relatively) new vibram fivefingers is very different from hour times and I need to get used to them a little more slowly. Now, if the children will let me, I will sit still for the rest of the day. If only we could all nap.