Barking dogs

The thing I have realized about working in the suburbs is how fat I got. Driving out to the suburbs or taking a very short train ride and walking an even shorter distance leads one to an excess of body weight. It’s funny how it slowly creeps up on you and the next thing you know, you can hardly walk at all.  The positive being that with all this walking I'm sure to lose all that suburb fat I put on.

My feet are killing me however. I now walk to the train station by my apartment and then walk from the train station downtown to work. I quickly developed a blister on my right foot and my left foot seems to have become quite lame. It’s as if they just don’t want to participate in my new adventures downtown and are conducting a revolution of sorts.  I would liken my left foot to a gout ridden Che Guevara and my right to Benedict Arnold. Both used to be cool but in the long run seemed to have failed their causes.

I’ve also noticed how exhausting it is to walk while limping and grimacing along the busy Chicago sidewalks. By the time I make it to the front of my building I’m practically in tears and have very little breath. But because I’m old school I would never let on to anyone around me my intense and horrifying pain, just you dear reader, just you. That’s what makes us friends.

When I arrived home yesterday I had to immediately take my dress shoes off and put on a

pair of my soft slippers. (Yes, I have slippers. Wood floors get pretty chilly don’t you know). They’re manly slippers though, just black and shoe like. I’d never wear them out of the house like some people seem to do these days. Why do people do that?

I’m hoping the gout hasn’t caused a shortening of the tendon in my left foot. That would be bad and would effectively limit me to limping around for the rest of my life. I did a little research on–line and a side effect of gout is indeed a shortening of the tendon. There’s nothing like getting older and having a body that can’t process certain high protein foods. Henry the VIII and I got it bad. Although I won’t break from the Roman Catholic Church just so I can ditch the girl I’m with.

I might have to invest in some sort of Dr. Scholl’s foot product in order to help with the pain in my poor old dogs. See a doctor you say? I’m sorry. I know what the condition is, no need to seek any expensive medical advice. Thanks for your concern though.

Well, as this new job has got me pretty busy already I must get back to it. I wonder if this new office would be opposed to me soaking my feet here in my new cube. Maybe if I had an office it wouldn’t be so bad. But right here, in Cubeville, it might not go over too well.