Cue confetti...
One Minute Alone
Since the Garden women have yearned for time alone. Adam’s rib was removed to create a separate individual, not a homing device. Meaning if Eve needed to use the bathroom, Adam had to find something else to do. Why is it so hard to find one minute alone?
I tried this morning. Literally. It was Day 9 in my 30-Day Plank Challenge. Planks, as you
may know, require forcing one’s body into a gravity-defying position several inches
above the ground and holding it for an excruciatingly long time, which increases
daily. Day 9--one minute. (I have nothing to say in my defense. The single-digit cold this month has
made me insane.)
My husband was downstairs involved in his morning ritual. (I
knew it was safe to begin when the smell of burnt toast wafted up the stairs.) I
stretched, prayed and set my timer. Up went my entire body, supported only by
toes and forearms; eyes closed to avoid watching the
slower-than-molasses-in-January seconds tick past. My muscles began trembling
under the pressure and I think the entire house started to shake. Just then, I
heard my husband’s foot on the stair...he was coming up! What? He never comes
back up! I go to a great deal of trouble to hide these disturbing exercise
positions. He was about to open the door.
“Don’t come in here!”, I screeched.
Even he can be intuitive sometimes. “Not even on a bet”, he
said, backing away.
But it was too late. With 15 seconds left I tried to regain
my concentration and finish one minute of exercise. I willed my body to stay
aloft. With a final shudder I crashed
to the floor seconds before the timer went off.
One minute. It’s all I needed. One tiny, 60-second minute. Why
is alone time so elusive to us women? Did we do something wrong? Babies actually
fasten themselves to us. Toddlers need
constant supervision or they’ll jam the disposal with spoons or blind the cat
with orange juice. Children have
to be cared for all the time, including
teenagers. You worry about them at
school, on a date, at their job; failing classes, getting pregnant, embezzling.
After the nest empties, men require as much attention under
their 42 Regulars as a 7-year-old. With bigger laundry.
I suppose I should be grateful for a husband who wants to be around me. It’s not like I’m training for a triathlon
and continued attempts at defying gravity could be dangerous. At this point in
my life, what would I even do with one minute alone? End hunger? Banish handguns? Read an email? Exercise is out,
that’s for sure. Maybe I’ll get a
paper route.
Ah...you could always go I to the bathroom and lock the door, although nothing would keep him from knocking....funny funny.
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