Today I realized that there was a stowaway among us. Apparently, when you are a man of my age and you suddenly leave a job that involves 9 hours a day on your feet for a job that involves 9 hours a day on your ass, well, things tend to shift. I’m not talking about priorities.
We have a new neighbor. I heard Thing 1 outside explaining to her about the numerous cats in the area that have taken to living just outside the reach of our dogs. He was going on in great detail.
I figured that I should run out and save/meet this new neighbor, but as I hadn’t bothered putting on pants while my ass made its way from the bed to the chair this morning I ran, literally, like a real slow wind- the great white breeze, down the hall and put on a pair of shorts. The first pair I put on was missing the top button, which seemed odd, and while my neighbor will undoubtedly see me in my underwear soon enough I decided day one wouldn’t be the day.
I put on a second pair of shorts. They were tighter than I remembered. I sucked it in, owing it to a bladder bloated with coffee and the lingerings of last nights pizza. It worked. I buttoned the shorts and waited… to exhale.
I didn’t really wait. That’s called suspense. So I let it out, and holy crap, where in the wide world of what the hell is going on, did this spare tire come from?
I’m skinny. Always have been. Awkwardly so. Yet there it was. 3 months on my ass had earned me something I had never had before- fat.
As soon as I finish this beer and my ice cream sandwich I’m going to bed. I have to get up and go running in the morning.