How is it that I get out the door later on workdays than on weekends? *side eyes my dog* Walk started at 5:33 p.m. and it was a clear but drizzly pre-dawn, which I suppose is a Florida thing? Like I would know otherwise? Sky was mostly cloudless but still pissing on us, so I guess it is.
Monday, Monday…back to the work-a-day world for me. I try hard not to feel rushed in the morning, hence getting up at 4:30 a.m. to do the things I need to do like walk the dog and write this and drink coffee. Still, I sometimes find myself high-stepping Keely around Lake Ella, the anxiety of bus schedules and office hours weighing on me.
Keely slows me down, though, and I’m grateful for that. I can and do drag her along at points but she stops, she sniffs, she pees, she stares mournfully into the distance…
It was quieter walk than normal, too. While the park is never ever busy at this time of day, there are about five people I expect to see regularly, if not always altogether on the same day. They come and go — Keely and I being the only constant. I wonder what those people think on the few weekday mornings we don’t show. Do they worry? Do they even notice?
There is one woman who used to come walking pretty regularly who I wonder about myself. She was obese and I suspect early morning walks were part of her attempt to lose weight, because that is always the assumption when fat people dare to show ourselves in public, isn’t it? I know it is what people think of me, if they think of me at all, and for most of my life that has been true.
How ironic that the most consistent exercise routine of my life has absolutely nothing to do with me and everything to do with my dog.