Get Out!!
  Written By Titmowse

Last month I did a very uncharacteristic thing. I went to the University in my town and signed myself and the kid up for a membership to their activities center. It’s not a big complex like some others but the place has a killer indoor pool with a fancy slide, wave generator and a couple of nifty water-droppy-down things. They also have a weight room with a few pieces of other assorted workout equipment. It may be located at a higher learning facility but in essence, I’ve gone and joined a gym. That is so not like me.

The closest I’ve come to participating in athletics is when I took ballet. I took lessons for three years twice a week. I wasn’t a dedicated dancer. I did Phys Ed in grade school but I hated every minute of it except for gymnastics. I do pretty well on the dance floor but I don’t really do the club thing anymore. When I waited tables and worked as a hairdresser, I got exercise through the tasks of my job. I am not nor have I ever been an athletic girl. That is, the idea of deliberate exercise has never held an appeal to me, until now.

Ever since I quit my day job and entered the exciting field of adult Internet entertainment, I’ve gone completely off my normal behavior track. I have a kid and I have cats. But a year or so ago, I was overwhelmed with this urge to grow plants and keep tropical fish. I’m on my sixth tank and the wildflowers in urns on my front porch began blooming a week ago. I’ve got a terrarium with rosemary, basil and chives thriving on a shelf by the television and now comes this gym thing.

I know what’s going on. It’s funny it took me this long to realize it. I love the fact that after 28 years in the public sector I’m finally able to work at home. Just the same, I need to see people, leave the house and breathe some fresh air. No matter how much I enjoy the hermit-type existence, I have discovered this nasty little desire to get out more. I am desperately in love with computers. The glass tit has held me in its power for eight years now. Yet since I have become a writer for Cozy I’ve noticed a decline in the hypnotic powers of my desktop. Crazy thoughts of stationary bikes and lap pools are taking over my waking mind. I’ve grown jealous of my cats who chase butterflies and my fish who happily swim all day. The kid says “I want to lift weights” and for the first time in my life I’m not thinking of a way to get out of having to sweat.

You and I both know this web pimp lifestyle is sedentary as hell. We sit there in front of our glowing screens drinking coffee and beer and smoking like stacks. We’re so unexposed to the sun; we’re as pale as vampires. We stay up all night uploading and coding and socializing without contact. We spend awake hours checking stats, reading tutorials, promoting sites and going to the bathroom. We ruin our backs with bad office chairs, destroy our eyes with improper lighting and pain our wrists with mouses. Our necks hurt. Our butts are numb. Our lungs are filling up with our own carbon dioxide. Acacia might fuck us and Ashcroft may hunt us but it’ll probably be our lifestyle that kills us.

I’m listening to that wee voice in my head and it’s telling me to get the fuck up off my butt. I look in the mirror and I see the easy life on my hips. I look at my sunless skin and am blinded by the light.

Do yourself a favor. Step away from the computer. Do a few stretches, put on your hat, go outside and take a walk around the block. Run if you feel like it. You don’t have to join a gym. You don’t need fancy equipment. Go out dancing. Take up bowling or golf. Visit the park. Play on the swings. If you’re like me and you’re lucky enough to set your own hours, use them better. The web will be here when you come back. Promise!