As an antidote to yesterday's totally disgusting post, I am going to put up a pretty picture of the Point Bonita Lighthouse in San Francisco. SH and I "hiked" there this weekend. As in, there were old women in flip flops walking the half mile from the parking to the lighthouse.
That is my kind of hiking.
SH wants to take me on these 11-mile forced marches over hills with only one sausage, two rolls and an almond croissant to fortify us.* I don't like to work that hard and I don't like to be that far away from food.
He's all, "But look how beautiful this is! Wouldn't you rather do this than go to the gym?"
And I'm all, "Nope. I go to the gym for an hour and get it over with and then the fun (=lazy) part of my day starts. I don't know when this is going to end and I might be dead before we get back to the car. Plus there are no bathrooms out here which is not a problem for you but it is for me, even if we had brought toilet paper, WHICH WE DID NOT,** so I have to deal with holding it when I need to pee or [use your imagination here and keep in mind that even though I am allergic to poison ivy,*** I cannot identify it]."
* Never leave the chocolate croissant in the car. Never. You will regret it.
** What do you do with your TP? You can't leave it there, so yeah. You bring it back with you. No thanks. I spent two years in the Peace Corps and then ten weeks traveling back to the US over land, carrying my own TP everywhere I went. I am DONE with those days.
*** Oh yes I am. Because of that discovery, I also know that steroids make it impossible for me to sit still for more than a few minutes and that they also make my jeans tighter in two days.