The sun has come out! The sun has come out! It was a wee bit too late to save our Sunday afternoon barbeque for fourteen people, but better late than never. On Sunday my husband and I looked at the sky with nervous hope; about twenty minutes before our guests arrived, the sky turned black, the wind turned icy, and the rain started pouring and didn’t stop. That was a bit disappointing but I shall repeat: the sun has come out!
The boys are at karate camp this week, so I’m extra glad for the sunny weather. I can’t imagine how miserable the camp would be if the weather had been what it was like last week. Mind you, last year there was one day that was twelve degrees and raining and they still went swimming at the heated outdoor pool so I guess the show must go on. Swimming isn’t happening this year, though, as was evident when we pulled into the parking lot and saw a giant digger and dump truck, and where the pool had been previously was merely a pile of rubble. There’s always next year! In any case, if yesterday is any indication, they will be having an EPIC week full of karate and water fights and obstacle courses.
I am austerely taking this opportunity to get a lot of work done. It’s amazing how much one can get done without having near-constant conversations about The Simpsons, Overwatch, and – alarmingly – Grand Theft Auto. Mom, there’s a guy on GTA who does yoga! Ah, yes, thanks for letting me know about the criminals and how they spend their time when they are not stealing cars or shooting people.
Grand Theft Auto is just one in a string of examples of things I never thought I would allow, but here we are. Although “allow” is probably the wrong word for it; it’s more like I was railroaded into this “decision.”
The other day I bought a pair of athletic socks, and this is actually a much bigger deal than it appears. I hate, hate, hate spending money on socks, for some reason, but I especially hate spending money on athletic socks. I don’t know why. I don’t know what my issue is but it probably would take a team of therapists to get things straight. In any case, I realized that the two pairs of athletic socks that I own are on their last legs (feet?). One pair I purchased for spin class, last attended in 2001, and the other pair I purchased for golf. My last golf game was somewhere in the first half of 2003.
I probably needed a new pair of socks, is what I’m trying to get at.
We all know my love of all things lululemon, and so I purchased a pair of socks from there. They are pink, to match my trainers, and they have all kinds of claims like “micro-cushioning” and “sweat-wicking” and plus did I mention they are pink? Anyway, they were a bit pricey but I figured that by the time I bought a new pair, somewhere in the vicinity of 2030, I would have gotten my money’s worth from them. Per-unit usage and cost-benefit analysis and all that. “Micro-cushioning” isn’t cheap, you know.
Anyway, I took the socks from the packaging and I was faced with one of lululemon’s signature inspirational sayings. Except that it was less inspirational, and more depressing. It said that women, on average, walk five kilometers more than men. FIVE KILOMETERS. I thought of all the women in the world, walking for hours to find clean water and whatnot, and I thought that was probably the least inspirational thing I could have read on my sock packaging. Because honestly? I’m not sure that Fitbit-wearing women in North America are walking five kilometers more than their male counterparts. I mean, I haven’t seen the data or anything, but that doesn’t seem credible, which makes the “on average” thing that much more depressing.
This is why I don’t have a Fitbit. Well, not exactly, it’s not because I would become depressed thinking about the plight of women in disadvantaged situations, although every time I think about it I do. The real reason I don’t have a Fitbit is because I would turn into David Sedaris. I have somewhat of a highly competitive nature and would probably spend my days trying to kill it on the Fitbit. All work, childcare, and sanity would go out the window as I would spend my days walking briskly to get more steps. This is the reason that my husband will no longer play Monopoly with me, and also the reason I secretly fumed at my sister-in-law’s brother for winning Shopkins Bingo at my niece’s birthday party. It’s bad enough that I have a step counter on my phone; if I had a Fitbit I’d probably railroad my husband into getting one too, and then see if I could walk five kilometers more than him on a daily basis. Actually, I’d probably make it six for good measure and to get back at him for the Grand Theft Auto thing.
Well, it’s better for my marriage, sanity, and everything else to not have a Fitbit, and meanwhile, I am enjoying my new socks very much. If I was walking an extra five (or six) kilometers a day, I’d probably have to spring for another pair, and that is just a bridge too far.