When I got home from my extended DC stay last year, I had a pretty rough month of adjustment. Things improved once school began and I could drown my loneliness in work, but it was a difficult enough time that I actually considered turning down Jason’s invitation this summer for fear of what the after-effects would be.
Even though my housing disaster this summer has provided excellent levels of business and distractions, I’ve still felt the occasional pang of realizing that there’s no one here with whom I can share a conversation, a meal, a TV episode, or simply a silence.
While I do miss the company (and, oddly, Jason’s frequent dinner menu of grilled chicken and spinach salad), what I’ve truly been longing for are my daily workouts. I worked out virtually every day while I was in DC, for anywhere from 30 to 120 minutes. I enjoyed it, and coming back to an elliptical wrapped up in plastic sheeting and a home without enough floor space run through a yoga/Pilates workout has been rough. I refuse to take up jogging (detestable!); and even if I had a bicycle, I still prefer cycling that looks like this over this.
I blame my resulting pent-up energy for the inescapable need I had at 10:30 last night to bleach and scrub my bathtub. Well, my pent-up energy and my control issues. My bathroom is the only thing in the house I can clean right now, since everything else is covered in plastic and a thick layer of white plaster dust. Behold, my dining room:
|This is why I was scouring my bathroom sink at 11:00 last night.|
However, I recalled from my real estate hunt four years ago the mention of a clubhouse somewhere on the property. Yesterday I made some phone calls to see what I could find, and as a result, I picked up a key to said clubhouse this afternoon. Within ten minutes I was back in workout clothes pedaling my way up an imaginary hill while reading a novel and listening to Pandora’s Britney Spears station (yet another sign of Jason’s tastes infiltrating my own).
It’s not as nice as the gym in Jason’s building – the elliptical is broken and most of the other machines had a layer of dust on them, so I’m guessing the fitness center doesn’t get much use. The three-block walk isn’t quite as convenient as riding an elevator six floors down, either. Still, I got to work out today, and that felt really good.
Now if only I had access to my wee Foreman grill….