FALLING INTO DISGRACELAND 

FALLING INTO DISGRACELAND

I have a shocking confession. Well, not that shocking if you’ve seen me recently. Maybe just surprising. Okay, I’ll just say it: I haven’t been to the gym in ... oh, two months and counting. You know, there was this whole thing with summer and I was busy and my bathing suit somehow became threadbare in the butt and all my other workout clothes were dirty (and they don’t let you swim in sweat pants anyway) and I just didn’t get there. Now it’s getting to be the time when I need to make my way back to the mecca of fitness anyway (Halloween being my favorite holiday and all), but in the wake of recent events -- specifically the war -- I feel like I should’ve gone back yesterday. Or the day before. Or not quite going in the first place. I’m not in shape right now. At all. I get winded taking my dog out for a walk. And part of me wants to bulk up and kick some Osama butt, okay? I like the idea of a woman -- any woman -- giving bin Laden the beatdown. Call it poetic justice. The other part of the new gym kick (still yet to begin of course) is due to my own panic attacks. I’ve been trying to keep them under control, but here’s another shocker: I had some extra bottled water stockpiled on December 31st, 1999. Not more than a few liters, not enough to keep someone alive is something drastic had happened, just enough if there were glitches for a few days. I was just trying to be prepared and, for the record, I drank the water eventually anyway, but, oh, the ribbing and jokes that were made at my expense around the family dinner table. You know, stuff about building a bomb shelter in the backyard and stockpiling tomato soup. And, yes, nothing happened during either millennium (you know, depending which way you look at it), but I do not apologize for thinking something bad could have happened. I’m not saying that a full blown jihad is coming (I have yet to grasp the idea of a "holy" war, btw) but I would like to acknowledge that things might possibly get a little hairy. Pakistan has nukes, for crying out loud. And I know security is tighter now than ever, but I’m still not all that comforted. What if I have to break into a sprint some time? Or even a full-blown run? If we’re talking survival of the fittest, well, right now that definitely isn’t me. So back to the gym. Just to be prepared. And if nothing happens, great. Maybe at the very least, I’ll lose a few pounds. No harm in that. Now I’ve just got to figure out where to get those little water-purifying tablets.

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