When I arrived home from work, I discovered that the entrance to my street was completely blocked off – starting at the shopping centre on the corner. I had to backtrack and detour, it took me twenty minutes to finally make it home, even though the point I got turned back at is only one minute from my front door. Soooo frustrating.
When I made it home, I discovered that my grandmother had been released from the hospital and was waiting to greet me! Yay! Only, she wasn’t really waiting to “greet me”. She was waiting for me to get home so I could go and fill her prescription for pain meds. I sighed (internally, I’m not that big of a bitch, after all she was just released from the hospital) and climbed back into my car. I crawled down the crowded back street, through two school zones and up the giant hill that my car always groans upon sighting. When I finally hit the pharmacy, I did what I do best: complain.
I bitched and moaned to anyone who would listen about the mess of the roads and how awful it was to have to detour twenty minutes to get to a place AROUND THE CORNER from my house. I even texted a couple friends with my saga (I’m really, really good at complaining – I can do it in several mediums). Finally, as I was paying, the pharmacist mentioned that she would have just walked over if she lived so close.
I think my jaw literally hit the floor.
Walking over had never even occurred to me. It’s less than two blocks but last summer, walking over would have killed me. At the very least, it would have left me sweaty and breathless, with an ankle the size of a melon.
I think I’ve become so used to thinking of myself as a fat, out of shape person, with severe physical limitations that it never occurs to me that the above description isn’t really apt anymore. I’m still fat, but dammit! I work out!
What’s the point of spending all that time in the gym if I can’t even hoof it over to the store when my grandmother needs some Tylenol 3’s?! There ain’t much of one, I’ll tell you that!
When I arrived home and started cooking dinner, I realized I was out of part-skim mozarella cheese. I walked my ass back over to the corner to buy it and felt as proud as a peacock.