Even though my housing disaster this summer has provided excellent levels of business and distractions, I've still felt the occasional pang of realizing that there's no one here with whom I can share a conversation, a meal, a TV episode, or simply a silence.
While I do miss the company (and, oddly, Jason's frequent dinner menu of grilled chicken and spinach salad), what I've truly been longing for are my daily workouts. I worked out virtually every day while I was in DC, for anywhere from 30 to 120 minutes. I enjoyed it, and coming back to an elliptical wrapped up in plastic sheeting and a home without enough floor space run through a yoga/Pilates workout has been rough. I refuse to take up jogging (detestable!); and even if I had a bicycle, I still prefer cycling that looks like this over this.
I blame my resulting pent-up energy for the inescapable need I had at 10:30 last night to bleach and scrub my bathtub. Well, my pent-up energy and my control issues. My bathroom is the only thing in the house I can clean right now, since everything else is covered in plastic and a thick layer of white plaster dust. Behold, my dining room:
|This is why I was scouring my bathroom sink at 11:00 last night.|
It's not as nice as the gym in Jason's building - the elliptical is broken and most of the other machines had a layer of dust on them, so I'm guessing the fitness center doesn't get much use. The three-block walk isn't quite as convenient as riding an elevator six floors down, either. Still, I got to work out today, and that felt really good.
Now if only I had access to my wee Foreman grill....