Better news: The Blackwells are fighting for the May vacation! Go, Blackwells, go!! Fight “da Man!”
And so as war rages outside of my world, as Iraqis are bombed into dust and as brave, handsome US Marines are KIA, spring has arrived outside my humble apartment balcony. I’ve opened the sliding door about two feet wide, and ushered the cats and dog outside to feel spring. As of right now, Mickey and Charlie have come back in, and Misty stays outside. No doubt she’s breathing in the fresh air while shaking the dew from her paws.
I’ve woken up early enough to enjoy a full day before the Wings game tonight — a result of going to sleep last night at a time that would cause my peers to wince in shame. I have a sadistic temptation to try Body Pump again at the YMCA this morning. I did Body Pump for many months long ago when I was heavier. Never understood why it didn’t work. Maybe the ice cream I’d treat myself to afterward made it difficult.
Maybe it would be a good way to work off my guilt for having a half-slice of pizza for breakfast. If I live through the ordeal, I’ll grab a chai tea latte (trendier than ice cream) and read my April edition of Martha Stewart Magazine out on the balcony.
How lucky am I that I can sip a 3-dollar drink on my safe sunlit balcony while my country’s supposedly at war? That my life can continue normally? If I don’t read the news, I’d never know something was happening.
I think today I’ll put an American Flag out on the balcony to remind me why I’m so lucky.
