Thanks to my watch I know now that I am not active enough, do not take enough steps each day, do not suffer from a-fib (good thing,) can control my phone without taking it out of my pocket, still can’t communicate effectively with a digital assistant, and have a growing sleep deficit. None of that is a surprise to me, just that I have numbers now to back it up. Numbers don’t lie; unless we want them to.
The arrow pierces the intersection of the crucifix which bursts into a bright light. What remains is a beating heart, the pulse displays on the monitor to one side of the gurney. The green line travels across the screen, steady, jumping up and down and falling back again. Which monitor makes that beeping sound? It doesn’t matter. What matters most right now is that the men’s room is down the hallway on the left. There’s plenty of time to sort out the rest later. Just so long as that stupid green light keeps up its jerky march across the screen.
- That time I shoplifted as a kid
- My favorite type of alcohol
- Which magazines I read
- Who’s car I bumped into in the parking lot and didn’t leave a note
- Casino where I’ve won at poker most often
- Anything I’ve done at college besides graduate
- Number of speeding tickets
- Real reason for that scar on my forehead
- What I have stored in the basement
- Number of times I’ve been dumped v number of times I’ve dumped
- Most frequently committed deadly sin
- Amount of ‘on the clock’ time I spend in the bathroom
- Secret society I can’t talk about of which I am a member
As I recollect it, the morning was cold. Bitter cold. Too cold to stay out-a-door for more than a few minutes. Enough to race acrost the lawn, use the johnny, but not long enough for the run back. You could lose the implement if you weren’t careful about leaving it out in the cold for too long. Even the normal warmth from the pit was gone. Frozen solid. How the raccoons got in there, I’ll never know.
Walking to work, I intentionally left early and yet the streets are wrong, too many people for this time of day, the sidewalks are crowded when they should be empty. Where are they all going? Why aren’t they home in bed like sensible people instead of getting in my way, slowing me down, making me late for work when I even left early! Such a bad way to start the day. Maybe we’ll have another power outage. Brown-outs, they call them. Too many people, that’s what I call then.