the treadmill fixer guy is right this very instant upstairs fixing our treadmill. Suffice it to say, this has been a beyond frustrating task to come to fruition...and now, hopefully (!) a working treadmill. Tsk tsk, I shouldn't say it because he has not walked down saying "all fixed." He did just ask me if I had the user's manual (wtf...I normally wouldn't write that here, but that is the only phrase that works). NOT a good sign. Supposedly it's a "simple fix...just the motor belt." I won't go into the details again, but it took a call to the Utah CEO's office of this stupid company to get us to this day....and to get $235 taken off the credit card (for a lousy $15 part...$17 for s/h and "we'll get it to you in 7-10 days"). I could drive to Utah and back to pick up the part in less time than that!!
I've eaten so much over the past week that I look 6 months pregnant....carb overload. I blame the Pioneer Woman...her decadent rum cake and her YUMMY vintage, bacon appetizers...so good! I also blame Trader Joe's...endless goodies this time of year...cranberry/walnut bread, cheese fondue, dips and endless yummy sweets. I'll try to blame you too...the bacon dip you left here....it literally calls to me as I pass the refrigerator, "Heidi, please grab those triscuits and meet me back here in 30 seconds...I am so good!"
SO, this damn treadmill better be working by sundown. I am feeling doughy. George's short, old man walks have done nothing for me but filled my lungs with fresh air, kissed my cheeks with sun (since he must smell everything, I turn my face to the sun until he is ready to move on) and have contributed to a good sense of peace.
I need my treadmill. My whole body needs it. An hour/day.
xoxo, H.
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