Ever since we got back from Arizona on December 9, the weather has been bone-numbingly cold and the streets have been treacherous with ice. So I’m forced to do my 2-to-4-a-day down in the cellar with the DVD player and the treadmill.
I’ve walked through The Secret Life of Bees and Is Anybody There? I’ve marched along to Joyeux Noel and The Power of One.
When Netflix can’t ship movies to me fast enough, I go to the library and check out their scratched, skipping, public-abused old DVDs: Serendipity, A Fish Called Wanda.
I’ve pulled old videos and DVDs off the shelf of my meager personal library and re-watched Muriel’s Wedding and Office Space.
Marching, marching, marching . . . 3 or 4 or 5 miles a day, treadmill humming, reading subtitles.
I need a break in this Minnesota weather.
I need the ice to melt off the streets.
I need to get semi-lost in the woods at Carlos State Park.
I need my Central Lakes Trail fix, but the snowmobilers have taken it over until spring. Polaris, Arctic Cat, Ski Doo, Yamaha—they’ve kidnapped my trail.
I need fresh air. I (gasp!) need to breathe oxygen that hasn’t been inserted into my house through a forced-air furnace! I need to walk on a surface that allows me to move forward in space rather than walking nowhere on a conveyor belt!! I need scenery and birds and lakes and trees!!!
Help! I’m being held prisoner by a treadmill in the basement!
(Pant, pant, pant . . .) Would someone please slap me? I seem to be a little hysterical.