I’m Anxiously Awaiting the Day I Learn to Sit With My Feelings
Just this morning I snapped at my wife and it was all so unnecessary. And hurtful.
My wife doesn’t exercise.
It bugs the hell out of me.
This morning I let her know it — big time.
I had just returned from the clubhouse in my retirement community where about 30 or so elderly women and men were walking along with an exercise video on a large screen TV.
Many of them were well up there into their 80s.
Maybe they weren’t quite keeping up with the walking pace of the slim, attractive 40-ish woman on the screen or kicking their legs as high but for sure they were putting forth the effort.
Not to mention they all were willing to wake up before 9 in the morning to drive over to the clubhouse as they valued the exercise.
But not my wife.
She was in bed, fast asleep.
My wife had told me many times before that there was no way she ever was going to get up in the morning to exercise, whether it was to attend a clubhouse class or go with me for a walk in our community.
