Are you fit? Even a little bit, if not a lot?
Are you keeping the middle-age fat monster at bay? The bad animal who climbed, uninvited, into your cells to slow your metabolism? The fink!
If ever there was something to rage about age, this is it… I desire a return to my teenage metabolism. A time when I was able to imbibe a chocolate milkshake a day without repercussion!!! Now, pounds arrive direct from my lips to my hips! Holy dipstick!
You may be ROFLing right now, based on the fitbit photo on this post. Yes, it’s been ensconced in its box, on display as if in a store window, since Christmas. I still achieve benefit…
- Bracelets have long been my jewelry of choice. I’m constantly accessorized and never have to worry about my fitbit’s aqua-blue color matching my attire. As you may recall, Constant Reader, my wardrobe in blue in every shade, shimmer, and hue, but the reason my fitbit never clashes is because it’s not on my arm.
- I don’t sputter and complain when I travel 50-60 steps from one room to another, prompted by a phone chime. Not even when it’s from a telemarketer or unknown –
- I no longer bitch when I haplessly cart my husband’s apple core from his palm to the trash while he remains reclined in his LaZBoy. Never doubt that the chair is well-named, my friend. Never doubt… Anyway, it’s my new habit to count any, every step.
- I disallow frustration to color my thoughts while I wander a parking lot seeking my parked car –
- I yield when Larry yelps from somewhere in a faraway room of our house that I must come right away…with paper towels or sponge for a spill or to fetch another wrench to assist his toilet repairs. Actually, I feel quite blessed to have a husband interested and able to tackle household tasks.
- Yes, dear, I’ll return to the fridge to fetch the other five mustard varieties. I’ll do it with a 🙂
I didn’t have to program the fitbit because its boxed presence on my desk suffices… It catches light from the skylight over my head and winks from its plastic windowed case, so that I don’t remain overlong at the keyboard. Thankfully it doesn’t shake a finger – nor does it applaud when I step up.
Besides I know several means of gaming a fitbit – in the next blog post I’ll tell you how –