D. G. Martin
The Finer Things
It’s 7AM. Do you know where your lawn care service is?
This morning, I did. Right outside my window.
For 25 minutes.
They used to come by a lot later in the morning, but after this morning I realized they’ve been coming by earlier and earlier each week for a while now.
So, my day started earlier than usual. Late for some, I know, but I’m guessing those some don’t usually stay up until 1AM or later.
It’s just the life I lead. Get over it.
Then. The gym.
Thermostat must be broken at that place. I mean, sure, when you workout you want to sweat, but I should have just jogged around the building….outside the building….and I wouldn’t have been much worse off.
But you know what? This isn’t about complaining. In fact, it’s about the complete opposite of complaining.
I’m approaching my 35th birthday, which is this Saturday, and I haven’t yet felt the encroaching, impending doom of only being five years away from 40 years old that I was expecting to feel.
Maybe the next few days will change that, but I’m suspecting not.
Instead, through a strange twist of happenstance and fate, I’ve been given a goal.
There’s this really cool place beside the hot gym that has trampolines.
I’m too heavy to go on the trampolines, but I know what I want to do for my 36th birthday now.
I want to go on the trampolines.
This isn’t a major life turning point. At least, it doesn’t feel like it is. I just realized that I really want to jump on trampolines, and right now I can’t.
It’s like saving up for a dream vacation, only in my case I’m trying not to conserve.
So now, a birthday wish.
I wish for less prompt lawn care service.
Picture from here.