So, I got out of my volunteer position at school, a half hour early, giving me plenty of time to walk Brody before the migits get off the bus. So, after lunch with both migits, I was homeward bound with a healthy plan to grab Brody for some exercise. This paragraph can end here, but technically, there needs to be more than two sentences in the paragraph. So, this is all filler.
We made it to Walgreens, and I normally walk to the light, just beyond where we turned around, but darn it is ridiculously hot here for the end of October, and that IS the steepest part. Look--- you don't get into AND stay in this shape by overexerting ones' self. So, we turned around, and walked toward our subdivision, and right about the point where it is least trafficked, a regular, silver, four door car stops next to me. I notice that there appears to be like that police car grate in between the front of the car and the back seats. It really freaked me out, and I know that Brody is super sweet, and would bark the ear off someone to "warn/alert" them, but he wouldn't bite if my life depended on it. And that was my thought. This psycho is stopped to kidnap me and have his way with me! My husband would be jealous, seeing as even he doesn't "have his way with me-" most of the time.
It might have been dramatic to jump to that conclusion, however, I am a little skittish, and I believe you have all seen the traumatic incident video from last week, right? I will stop there. So, I was actually on the phone with a girlfriend, and told her what was happening. Then, in a split second decision, I was running. OH. My. Gosh. Wow. At which point, my lungs chose to carry on a small conversation with my brain.
Lungs- What the hell are you doing?
Brain- Running. Flight or fight? We are a "flightier."
Lungs- Good to know. However, this isn't working for me. We will die if this continues. You must stop now. This is clearly NOT the way you want to die.
Brain- But what if the kidnapper kills us? Wouldn't you like to try to get away from him?
Lungs- No. Have you read her blog? Clearly, she is not mentally stable, and we need to try to work around her without her knowing that we know how messed up she is. Please trust me. I think this is a harmless situation, and perhaps, we need to calm the "F" down before this becomes an episode of Survivor, and the two of us are the only ones playing this. At this point, her fun bags have flung themselves into her face enough to need to be iced and she has given herself one, if not two, black eyes. Her left knee is begging her to stop, and both her ankles are yelling, "Hey CRAZY LADY! Remember us? There is a weight limit on us, and we don't mean to add insult to injury here, however, we believe you have exceeded it." Her feet are just confused, seeing as they are technically wearing running shoes, but they have never moved so swiftly before. They didn't sign up for this nonsense. I say we stop this now, and see what happens.
Brain- But we have only been running for 8 seconds.
Lungs- That's enough Let's chance it.
Brain- Okay.
Well, by the grace of G-d, I made it home. We can all breathe a sigh of relief. But my lungs are refusing to cooperate with me on this one, so you guys can do all the breathing you want. I will sit here until I catch my breathe again.
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