Sandy decided one day that she was going to do something to loose a few pounds. So she made what she calls a half hearted, pathetic attempt to start running. She got up early the next morning around 6:00 am and wondered why she chose running. “Man is it dark out.” She moaned. She stepped outside to do some half hearted stretches. “Boy am I stiff”, she thought. So she started walking, then breaking into a slow jog and abruptly stopped in pain, with a stitch in her side and a charley horse in her leg. She hobbled back home holding her side, trying to catch her breath and sat on the curb in front of her house. Sandy had “run” two houses down the block. Way to go, Denise Austin.
Then suddenly around the corner came the blond goddess from down the street. Now Sandy will tell you that she’s not gay, but even she has to admit, that she is attracted to her. The woman is a stunner after all. And Sandy wanted to strangle her for it. She jogs past Sandy, her hair flowing like a shampoo commercial under her adorable little knit cap, her pert breasts bouncing in her skin tight thermal top. It is obvious to Sandy that she isn’t wearing a bra either. And she doesn’t need one.
Of course Sandy noted that the goddesses’ outfit was coordinated right down to her running shoes and socks. She looks like a super model stepping out of a magazine. Of course she does, she’s perfect. She is the polar opposite of Sandy. It’s almost as if she looks that great just to make Sandy look even sloppier by comparison. She is after all, the one neighbor who washes her car in the summer wearing a bikini. All the men in the neighborhood pretend to cut their grass when she washes her car. The women in the neighborhood try to send their husbands out on errands on car wash day. Even the sun takes that particular moment to come out of the clouds and shine onto her perfection.
Sandy had clipped her own sorely in need of a wash hair up in a messy up do. She felt like strangling her and then running her over with her lawnmower. But Sandy is just too winded to get up and get it out of the garage. Instead she just sits on the curb; gives a wave back weakly and tries to force a smile. Under her breath Sandy mutters, “Trip and at least break a nail or something.”
As Sandy struggles to get up off the curb and crawl to her front door, she looks down at her own chest. There right in the middle of her chest, is an ugly stain on her sweatshirt that she hadn’t noticed before she put it on. “Well why wouldn’t there be a stain?” she says aloud to no one. “I'm not perfect!” Sandy heads inside and mutters, “I hate exercise.”
“Ah, life is so unfair” she says. She goes straight into the kitchen, grabs a spoon and a pint of ice cream and turns on the television to watch Oprah. “At least she’s not a stick person. She’s like everyone else.” Sandy says out loud to herself. “Oprah gained back the weight and all of us felt for her. It’s the story of my life too Oprah!” Sandy says raising her spoon in salute. “Ice cream for the weak of motivation!”
Oh the travesty of it all. Let’s face it. No one is really perfect anyway are they?
Smokey Mountain Memories
A Little Slice of Heaven
