Wednesday, October 14, 2009

Flat butt day

Today was a flat butt day.

What, inquiring minds may or may not wish to know, is a flat butt day? (Clever, perceptive minds may already have a clue.)

A flat butt day is a work day whose end finds your butt having been, for seven or eight hours, in near-continuous intimate contact with your desk chair, or other chairs your butt was required to kiss. Followed by a three-hour computer class. I believe the picture is clear here.

Not good for butt, body or soul.

I took the T home and walked the 1.3 miles home to move blood in my veins, air deep into my lungs and shake the overload from my brain.

I like the pleasant distraction of walking past the shops, peering into windows at bridal dresses, purses, fabric bolts, jewelry, purses, late evening coffee drinkers, garden pretties and people chatting in bars and restaurants. 

As I leave the business district, there is still the busy rush of traffic and white brightness of streetlights against the night sky.

Down a hill, I can hear the high school band practicing.

Pretty soon, I'm striding down my street and the night gets quiet. There is a stray sound of piano being practiced, a dog barking, the sound of my own feet, encased in thick tennis shoes, thudding softly against asphalt.

Finally, a deep breath.

Home.


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