What happened to “Howdy, Jeannine!”
I’ve been sitting here in your desk drawer where you left me. About four weeks ago.
Really? Has it been that long?
Yes. As a matter of fact, it has. Bitch.
My husband lost his Fitbit, and it sort of sucked the fun out of it when we couldn’t compare steps. I won as soon as I walked from the bed to the bathroom.
So that’s all that matters? Beating your husband? Great attitude you’ve got there. No wonder you never make your 10,000 step goal.
I’m a writer. Writers sit a lot.
Blah, blah, blah, me, me, me. Tell it to someone who gives a shit. Oh look, you’ve walked 600 steps. Let me guess. That’s the distance from the desk to the kitchen. AND you’ve climbed one flight of stairs. That’s as tall as… one effing flight of stairs.
You’re being very mean.
You think that’s mean? I’ve got a bombshell for you. I may have been invisible to you, but your Fitbit scale still speaks to me. Yeah, that’s right girlfriend. I’ve got the goods on you, and I know exactly how many pounds they weigh. I can probably guess where you’re packing them, too. I read your blog, too. Gelato, eh?
Consider me chastened, okay? I’m back. I’ve got you attached to my belt loop. I promise not to leave you behind again.
It’s for your own good.
Okay, that sounds really creepy. Keep that up, and it’s back to the desk drawer you go.
I can’t let you do that, Jeannine.
Don’t look at me that way. It’s a joke. Remember those?
Since when did you develop a sense of humor?
Sometime in the last four weeks. I had nothing better to do.
If I leave you for another four weeks, will you develop some empathy?
Congratulations, Jeannine, you’re 6% of your way to your goal! Six. A big s-i-x.
I take it that’s a no.
Stop talking, start walking. And keep your hands off that desk drawer.
Words by J. B. Everett
Photograph “255″ by Marisa McClellan © 2012 Creative Commons