Flashlight

I went for a walk tonight, because I was angry. It was after dinner, and I'd had ENOUGH, of dentists and grocery stores and dinner that didn't come out right and shoes everywhere and dirty clothes dropped in little heaps, and homework that still wasn't done, and so I put on my sneakers, picked up a flashlight, and walked out the door.

There are not enough hours in my day, and sometimes the walls start to close in on me. I run from work to my parenting duties without a "me zone" in between. It is a blessing to have children, but it is also a hell of a lot of work. "Work out to lose weight" people say, so matter of factly. My own sister - (single, and child free) "I work out an hour a day, and eat whatever I want." Hey, I can't fault them. They're trying to help.

But an hour? Are you damn kidding me? Sure, I could get up at 5 A.M. tomorrow. Kiss my exhausted ass. That's the only way I'm going to get an hour to myself in THIS house, without some serious committment from a hostage negotiator-- get up at 5 am, stumble to the family room and put the tv on low (read, Non-Motivating) so that I don't wake anyone, and try to do aerobics between the loveseat, the recliner, and various toys. Mmmm, yeah-right.

Tonight, a walk will have to suffice. At least the route I take will be almost 30 minutes, and take advantage of the only decent hill in the neighborhood.

As I was walking through my neighborhood, I looked up at the sky and noticed a murky haze -- a cloud had passed in front of the moon, which wasn't exactly full, but didn't look like "the man in the moon", either.

I was still stamping down the street, irritated. The flashlight felt reassuringly heavy in my hand. A thought flicked through my mind. "Mug ME? I don't think so." I momentarily fantasized about how good it might feel, smashing the flashlight into the skull of a would-be assailant, and then snapped out of the reverie, surprised at myself. Apparently, the stress relief potential of my after-dinner stroll had not yet been realized.