I’ve begun Week Two of my no-elevator lifestyle. I’m doing this for exercise and because of a complete lack of trust in the elevators in my workplace (the stories I’ve heard…). You’d think it would be the walk up to the 22nd floor, not the walk down, that would be the bigger struggle. You’d be right. I’m starting to notice the little things: the piece of discarded gum between 17 and 18 in Stairway 2 (I used to consciously avoid it, so as not to ruin my soles. Now, the gum is so hardened and embedded in the stair that I can laugh it off and step on it confidently); the fact that there are 16 steps per floor on office floors and only 14 on the parking floors; and the comparative loneliness of Stairway 3 compared to #2 (people must be scared by the “Alarm Will Sound” sign; I know better). Careful readers may remember my previous vow to exclusively take the stairs in favor of the elevators. I may really mean it this time.
My promised trip to the ocean this weekend was derailed by the slightly too-cool beach temperatures. Instead, I was as lazy as a lazy man could ever be. Sure, there was the movie and the other movie and the folding of laundry. But other than that, I hardly moved a muscle.
My favorite 5 songs of the moment:
Chicago – Sufjan Stevens
Multitude of Casualties – The Hold Steady (only rock song ever to reference dryer sheets)
Circles – Soul Coughing (my definition of “of the moment” is pliable)
When Smokey Sings – ABC (heard it at Trader Joe’s)
My Doorbell – White Stripes
Two good links: An interview with America’s finest poet. And a touching essay by The Aristocrats' scariest contributor.