Last night I decided that since the weather was so nice, and I had about 40 minutes for a walk, I would go to Shelby Bottoms. This was a good plan, with one slight problem: I wasn't far along the asphalt trail before I developed terrible shin splints. So I took off down a grassy "primitive" trail, which was easier on my legs. I had looked at the map of the trail and had two simple instructions in my head: turn left, turn right.
Well, the left turn worked well. I never found that right turn. I was 45 minutes out ... and had no clue where I was. And the sun was setting. And did I mention that I had consumed a lot of water in anticipation for this outing? I called VGG from my cell phone and, happily, just as I was explaining my plight, I found a marker directing me back to the park, just two miles away!
A Girl Scout I am not. My walk was 1 hour, 20 minutes, and I think I have never been so happy to see that railroad trestle that runs over the Shelby Bottoms parking lot. [On the way home, I was listening to author Amy Tan talk about Lyme disease, which freaked me out since I had just spent a considerable amount of time walking through grasslands.]
Just now, driving back from a show at Exit/In -- and may I just say, buy Richard Bennett's new album right now -- I was less than a block from my house when a man raced through a red light and nearly T-boned me. Thank God for peripheral vision and good brakes. The moron sped off, unrepetant. Never even slowed up for a second.
I am wondering if, tomorrow, I should not leave the house. At all.
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