Afternoon walk. |
There was no set path, just .77 miles through downtown, across and then alongside a canal, and back to the office. The canal is partly drained and looked like a dump site for old tires.
The sidewalks were busy with people walking places and waiting to cross streets clogged with vehicles. As I waited to cross Central Street, a young guy came up from behind me, and as he passed me, he said “love the hair!” as he continued on his way. Well, thank you very much, kind and youthful stranger.
The ride from work and the first ten minutes at home were
consumed with a go/no-go debate about attending the gym. The freezer
and cabinet doors were opened and closed, and opened and closed again, with a poorly scripted narration that was something like, “Go to the gym or eat supper? Why are there only ingredients here? Why is all the food food frozen? Cripes!”
Carrie Bradshaw in Paris. |
The Sex and the City binge is now up to Season 6. Carrie is in Paris, Miranda is in Brooklyn, and I'm in Lowell, on the couch nursing memories of my own trip to Paris, and wondering if I won or lost the gym/no gym debate.
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