When confronted with the choice between temporary joy and the elegance of sitting, I prefer the sitting. It’s like freedom over comfort, though this time comfort wins. At parties for example, I prefer to station myself and wait for traffic, the perfect vision of a sedentary anti-socialite in inaction.
So it is with some intrigue that I find myself genuinely busy with my so-called day, so-called job this week. Labeling the day haughtily, “the busiest day of the year” until cut down by my wife’s rejoinder, “so far”, I found myself in part driving around, in part standing in houses and in part sitting at a desk typing furiously.
Along with the sitting comes the eating – the errands lead to stops at stores around town noted for their unhealthy snacks and sugar hangovers encased in chocolate. My man in London tells me that his sources reveal the chilling truth: sitting leads to dying. And not in a good way. Faster than not-sitting.
Given that the dermis-flaying solar catastrophe of the Texas summer is all but champing at the door, it occurs to be to try something new in the coming six months of environmental abuse. One idea is to be nocturnal and avoid the “going out of the house” altogether. Probably not too popular with the kids.
The other is to build the ultimate hamster wheel as a poignant reminder that I’m attempting to get out of the rat-race and that I have clearly a ways to go. I can stay in my air-conditioned box and walk my way as I type and jab, spawning whole websites as I make the virtual trip from Austin to Antarctica by foot, perhaps tying my ZigBee enabled thermostat into my treadmill to reduce the ambient temperature as I flee the equator. Maybe I could have some penguins flown in too.
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