"She knew when she married me,
that I had wandering feet.
Her mama said 'oh baby, please...
he's from the wrong side of the street...' "
(An all expense paid trip to Snellville, GA - "where everybody's somebody" - for the person who can name the writer of that song.)
I had an Irish Setter once when I was in high school...for about 2 weeks. He was a beautiful dog. Named him Heathcliff because Mother said I had to give him a good Irish name. Apparently Heathcliff was a character in Jane Eyre? Wuthering Heights? Ok, so my literature's a bit rusty. Anyway, he was a good dog. One evening, before I got home he jumped the fence in the backyard and took off. I was distraught and searched for hours. Never found him. Mother said "well, some dogs just have wandering feet...of course some men do, too!"
With my new found sense of energy and positivity has come another symptom - severe restlessness. I wake up every morning in a rush. I'm not sure what I'm going to do but I've got to do something. I'm not sure where I'm going but I've got to go somewhere. It's a good feeling some days, not so good on others. Sometimes I feel like I'm in a house on fire and there's no way out and I'm just running in circles. In short, I think I've developed a case of "wandering feet."
I'm lucky in that I work from home three days a week. Poor Rhonda spends most of her time exhausted. After dealing with sick folks all day she has to deal with Ga. 400. And then she has to deal with a husband who's always ready to do and go. I know she's happy but I also fear that I'm becoming hard to contain. I'm sure she feels like she's on a bull slinging dirt and snot all over a rodeo ring somewhere...except she's gotta survive more than 8 seconds (yeah, I watch bullriding on t.v. And NASCAR..and Hee Haw re-runs..WHAT OF IT?)
"...a sudden need to satisfy,
our sudden wanderlust to roam..."
(that one's a bit easier...an old Rush song, the name of which escapes me)
My weight had me living in a cave. I didn't realize that until it was gone. Now I feel like I've just been paroled. The sky's limit, the world's a playground, the road is wiiiiide open and I'm ready to spread my wings and fly (oh dear, I've run out of cliches.)
The problem with that is that I get really angry when the realities of life collide with my newly liberated mindset. I up and joined a gym yesterday. Now I've got to hope that the extra expense of gym membership doesn't put our already tight budget over the top. Uh-oh...heading to the gym means I've got to have something to wear. I've quit wearing the sweatpants I have around the house because I got tired of mooning my bride. I had some exercise-type shorts that I used for pajamas but they, too, have become obscene (whichever side of me you're standing on you'll get a view you'll regret when I'm wearing those puppies...especially if I was sitting on an exercise bike!) So I need to buy more clothes? Like we need that right after the expenses of the holidays! Gotta tell ya, I get angry when the daily buckets of cold reality rain on my parade. Don't the fates or God or karma or whatever know that my fairy tale is just beginning and it's way too early in the evening to pay the tab, tip the bartender and call it a night?
I've got wandering feet and the only cure is more cowbell! (no wait..that's not the line I was looking for.....)
As for the song trivia at the very beginning of this post - who wrote that line about "wandering feet.." ? It's a trick question...nobody's ever heard that line. It's from a song I wrote a long time ago called "That Last Pitcher" Yeah, it's as classy as it sounds.