Under the guise of comfort, or habit, or laziness, I default to staying indoors. I wonder if there’s more to it, now that I am putting my personality under the microscope. To be honest, it feels safe to stay inside. No way that I’m going to get hit by bus from my couch.
There’s always an excuse to stay inside, too. Laundry, dinner, my tutoring schedule, the entire season of West Wing….even this blog. Yesterday, I stayed inside all day writing. It’s not like I couldn’t do that in fresh air. On the other hand, there wouldn’t be this blog if I got hit by a bus.
Living in fear is no fun. Which reminds me, I forgot to take my Effexor this morning. Maybe right now, more than ever, I should try to be better about that.
Anyway, I purposefully decided to go out today. Now that I’m at this cafè, with my Matcha tea latte, I question why I allow my anxieties to dictate my decisions.
My husband is the opposite. Right now, he’s biking through the hills of California, despite the unhealthy air standards due to nearby fires. I want to warn him about lung cancer, but I know that will only irritate him more than the smoke. Maybe he’s afraid if he stays inside, a framed piece of art will fall on his head during an earthquake? Yeah, doubtful. He’s not me.
Here’s exactly why I need to get out more: In the first few hours of the day, look at what I saw!
(Not shown: blurry photo, taken while unsafely driving, of a man riding a Penny Farthing bicycle down a street in Denver.)
Bottom line: I’ve wasted a lot of time, tucked inside my hermit crab shell. I’m going to get outside every day, even if it’s only for a twenty-minute walk.
But don’t worry, I will steer clear of the bus lane.