Just for doing things that before were little tiny things the size of nubbins and used just a minute in a day and now should be a prize winning thing of notice and grandeur and scale of one of those ice cream sundaes built in a trough the size of 10 backhoes dragging along the lifeless carcasses of long extinct hairy elephants.
But here is the deal. If you are an older lady, because now this is what it's come to, and you limp along sadly in your sweatpants, with a ratty old crutch wedged under your armpit and moving about half the speed of the slowest end of everybody else's non-winning time, you are automatically rendered invisible. Even if you figured out how to take a shower without getting your leg wet thanks to copious amounts of Saran Wrap and you brushed your hair. And teeth! Don't matter none because you just went invisible and even if you have enough rendering for some people to see a transparent outline, they will avert their eyes.
Try it sometime, agility ladies. It's a little bit creepy. Maybe this has already happened to you, except, I didn't notice. The thing that one of my so-called good friends from the nineties used to say, like he said this all the time, "Nobody Actually Cares About You," is fully in effect. You are on your own. You are no longer relevant.
And blog comments that mention using a walker are actually chilling amd cause squinty eyes staring at them and the sending of very unpleasant vibes up the wifi and into the cloud. Iam working here with a vintage crutch rescued out of a garage from behind paint cans and dog food bags. Walker my ass.
So off you go.
Here is what I didn't get an Emmy for. Not invited to the Golden Globes for. Even as a table filler for the saddest D-list table in the back. It may not sound like a lot. But you are welcome to gasp and wonder if you should try to purchase the movie rights to the story now, rather than later.
Put leashes on the dogs.
Get them in the car.
Which is located in the driveway.
Which is down 4 steps from the back door.
Get in the car.
Drive it to the field.
Get out of the car.
Unload dogs. Have 2 on leashes and sort of send the others freely on their way.
Unclip Banksy. Not Otterpop. She's the bodyguard.
Walk with the dogs approximately .2 miles. Maybe not even .2. Just to the middle path and down this a ways before turning back around.
Produce tennis ball from pocket. Unclip Otterpop.
Have all dogs behave brilliantly.
Except for an incident involving a wayward pug asking the bodyguard dog for an autograph.
That won't happen again. Sorry pug.
Clip Otterpop back on her leash.
Come back to the start. Where normally there would have been a loop. Loop! Ha. Funnyish.
Put the leashes back on most of them.
Re-load all dogs into the car.
Get in the car.
Drive to the store. The one with tiny shopping carts. The tinier the shopping cart the more expensive the store.
Get out of the car.
Get a little shopping cart. Slowly push around store. With all the new people in the store. Who knew this world existed of fancy store shoppers in the middle of the day?
Fill with expensive items. Even though you are not working thus not making money. $8 strawberries? RIGHT ON!
$52.68 of tiny cart right on. Pain killers make grocery shopping sparkly and fabulous.
Push cart to car. Lift tiny bag into car. Push cart back for next fancy shopper.
Get in car.
Get out of car.
Knee surgery basically sucks.
A bright note is we have started one year old dog 2x2 weave training! This is possible to do without really moving. And all the dogs are proving to be perfect, helpful good dogs. It's actually a little bit curious. They all could have easily mutinied or jumped ship. All are hanging in there and walking very slowly as needed. The unbright note is knee puffs up again more ice more pills more ice more pills sit back down on the couch.
The next monumental thing is going back to work. This is a bit laughable, given my line of work, but it is what it is and this is where you'll now find me.
In case I'm the big winner. I'm totally ready for my prize.