Day 22:

The most use I’ve gotten out of my exercise equipment was hauling it over from my previous apartment. I’ve grown resentful of it. It is arrogantly self-assured and judgmental beyond belief. When I go into the kitchen to fix a snack–toasted cheese sandwiches–or plop on the couch like a dehydrated hippo, I feel its judging eyes upon me. One particular piece–the abs Ultra Lounge, which Mallory inexplicably calls “the barcalounger”–I have converted into a computer chair. Another, a coat rack. The bench, a footrest. I hate them all. Moreover–to make matters worse–they’ve become horribly antagonistic to the rest of the furniture in the house. The sofa is berrated for laziness, the coffee table bullied against the wall, the ottoman relocated and ostracised. My entire livingroom is the victim of one big cardiovascular coup.

I told Mallory about my concerns that the exercise equipment was taking over our livingroom, but she said I need to get out of the house more. And maybe I should start actually using the exercise equipment, instead of sulking in corners and glaring at it (I won’t neglect to mention that she also patted my stomach and said I was working up a bit of a paunch). But maybe she’s right. Maybe I do need to get out more–I am, afterall, starting to sound a lot like one of those Charlotte Gilman Perkins’ characters. Thank God that we don’t have any yellow wallpaper or I’d really be in trouble!

“What’s going on?” Mallory inquired the next day when she called home from work, sounding pleased that I was out of breath.

“Oh…hey…Honey,” I wheezed. “I…think…I…solved…our…exercise…problem…”

“You mean your exercise problem?”

“Yes, my exercise problem. I bought a WII,” I jubilated.

“On our credit card?”

I didn’t bother to mention her convenient shifting of pronouns. Her voice was stern, unforgiving; I could tell she was ready to pounce on a moment’s notice.

My better judgment told me it was time to switch the subject. “You’ll never guess what my WII Age is,” I said. “Twenty-nine.”

“But isn’t that older than you really are?”

“And I lost twenty-six calories.”

“There’s thirty-five hundred in a pound. How long were you playing video games for?

“Working out,” I corrected. I looked at the clock on the TV. About an hour and a half.

There was an exasperated sigh into the receiver. “I hope you kept the receipt.”

The adoption of the new WII Fit into our home has worked out well, though. The fact that it is getting along with the rest of my household equipment–it’s compact and fits under things easily–is a huge plus. And now this blog is getting a little punny, so I think I’ll leave you with that. Besides, my new exercise machine is beckoning me to come hula.

Indicator of Extreme Laziness #21 – glaring at your exercise equipment

also,

Indicator of Extreme Laziness #22 – your abs Ultra Lounge has been reduced to a desk chair

Tune in tomorrow and burn some more calories with Indicators of Extreme Laziness…

addendum: Mallory has recently come around to the WII and now she uses it more than I do. Which is proving a much better excuse for not exercising than my previous complaint of a livingroom coup.

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