Hello, and welcome to Bossy’s update! Now with 72% more excuses!
As you may know, Bossy moved to the city at the end of the summer and has been reacquainting herself to city life. Truth be told, it’s not that different.
For instance when Bossy lived in her small town and needed groceries, she would buy them. Now Bossy rides an elevator to her bike room where she wrestles her bike from a meat hook hung high on the wall and unhinges her two rear bicycle baskets to accommodate purchases before pedaling on a main thoroughfare’s bike lane, otherwise known to vehicles as I don’t understand why this lane is painted with a bike logo but let’s knock these cyclists off with our hood.
Then Bossy tangles her bike pedals alongside other bike pedals propped against a municipal parking sign, and secures her bike frame with a bike lock before entering the store and filling what she thought was a toddler shopping cart, returning to her bike in order to settle the groceries down into the two bike baskets and unlock the bike and reattach her bike lock before pedaling the distance home and into the bike room where Bossy lifts the groceries from her baskets and places them on the concrete floor where the loose fruit and vegetables roll under adjacent bike tires while Bossy collapses her bike baskets so she can lift her bike that is heavy enough for the mountain trails Philadelphia doesn’t have, once again angling the front tire onto the mounted meat hook without bending the spokes or causing a crashing domino effect down the line of bikes belonging to Bossy’s very young and very fit medical residency neighbors.
See? Easy as one-two-three! One-two-three in arabic.
If you had the stamina to read the above, you may wonder why Bossy thinks her many apartment building neighbors are in a medical residency. The short answer is: their age and propensity to have multiple roommates while maintaing a lifestyle commensurate with their impending income and proximity to a superior ivy league medical school. The long answer is: Clogs. Propped outside their apartment doors.
Other changes in Bossy’s life include a paved river trail in front of her loft building that allows for many miles of safe, unfettered running. Luckily for Bossy, it also allows for many miles of safe, unfettered hobbling while wearing running shoes.
And for those days too cold to run outside — or too rainy or too snowy or too foggy or too unpopulated or too populated or too hot or too dark or otherwise inclement or even clement — Bossy’s apartment building features a gym which features a treadmill next to a window overlooking the running trail. Bossy simply climbs aboard and tunes the nearest television to an international program that stimulates the mind by alternating between English and Spanish, which is to say I Love Lucy.
And Bossy’s thirty minutes of exercise passes by in no time! Which is to say there is no time as excruciating as waiting for her thirty minutes of treadmill time to pass.
As such, Bossy tries to break that thirty minutes into more acceptable chunks of time. For instance Bossy will note to herself that two minutes have passed since she hit the Quick Start button and manually ticked off the many annoying beeps between standstill and her 6.0 miles per hour speed.
And then Bossy will calculate there are only 14 two-minute intervals left, which takes her 60 seconds to calculate, depositing her on Minute Three. At this point Bossy will note there is only one two-minute interval remaining until she will have completed five minutes on the treadmill, and there are only six five-minute intervals in her thirty minutes, meaning she is nearly to the five five-minute interval mark, which is only a two-minute interval from seven minutes, and there are loosely only four seven-minute intervals in the entire workout give or take a minute, a calculation which will deposit Bossy near the ten-minute mark when everybody knows there are only three ten-minute intervals before achieving thirty minutes, and Bossy is approaching the point of only two ten-minute intervals remaining, which is reason to celebrate by allowing herself the treat of counting the number of bull dogs on their way to the dog park. Bossy is a natural athlete.
Bossy then retires to her loft, emphasis on tires, where she showers for her workday and prepares her morning Kale smoothie otherwise known as The World’s Best Marketing Campaign Transformed an Ignored Soul Food Side Dish Into A Breakfast Cereal.
Next Bossy walks to work through her local city park:
Bossy’s walk culminates in the high rise where Bossy works as a money manager, which is to say she manages not to spend all of her money buying artisan coffee at the nearby coffee place where the baristas are so hip they look like the Amish farmers their ancestors tried not to resemble.
Bossy spends her day typing and printing and scanning and emailing but mostly smiling at the collection of coworkers Bossy loves like family.
After work Bossy sometimes goes to a bar. Not all of the time, mind you, because sometimes she goes to a different bar.
And you should know Bossy has been dating up a storm, which is a coincidence because sometimes Bossy wishes for a storm so she can cancel her date.
And about that: dating is a strange thing. In fact, it is really surprising that no one has ever tried to write a book or movie or song about the awkwardness of dating, with the exception of everyone. Most often Bossy gets to know these men online, and then schedules a night to meet, typically at a bar, but sometimes at a bar attached to a restaurant. Bossy has met many very interesting men, and yet something is usually missing.
Sometimes the missing thing is Bossy.
In addition to dating, Bossy has been spending a lot of time with her kids in the city, which is convenient since Bossy accommodates her two kids with only one twin bed, one sleeping bag thrown on a short sofa, and no curtains on an East facing view. But really it’s all about togetherness! Unfortunately in this case that togetherness begins at sunrise.
But Bossy has other news too! You see, Bossy is in the process of a blog redesign with a highly esteemed designer Bossy will announce very soon!
Bossy loves her blog like her third born child, and it has been exceedingly sad to watch I Am Bossy bob along in mounting waves, taking on water. But no longer.
So please have patience while all of the necessary improvements are accomplished to make this blog easier to read – and write – again. Please consider leaving a comment detailing things you would like to see, and not see here, moving forward. After all, you have always been Bossy’s esteemed council and you must know Bossy misses you every single day. Trust her.
Cheers to 2014.
If you liked this post, consider reading this one featuring Bossy’s Tutorial on How To Jog.
Or why not read this one about The Time Nina Totenberg was Horny.
Or this timely one about The Many Lookalikes Surrounding Downton Abbey.