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You’ll Feel Better if You Go Outside

Sure, maybe it would be nice to get Vitamin D to my brain and body so that they can continue their cute little vital functions, but afterward I’d probably have a slight headache from my grass allergies, so it’s really better that I stay in.

Perhaps I’d enjoy stretching my legs and walking more than four hundred and thirty-seven steps today, but then I’d have to get over accidentally staring at a cool woman with blue hair because I thought she was staring at me but then it became clear that she was just staring off into space and I made it weird. Shudder—no, thank you.

There’s nothing like sitting in the park on a hot day, sprawled across a plaid blanket, enjoying a laugh with friends and feeling a gentle, cool breeze on my skin, but—counterpoint—there’s also nothing like TV.

I’ll admit that it would be nice to temporarily breathe air that hasn’t been stagnating in my apartment for a year, but is it worth having kids talk to me as I pass them playing on the sidewalk? Especially when I’m not sure whether their parents are just waiting to scold me for not understanding that they’re trying to teach their kids about stranger danger right now? Nope.

It would be great to see people out and about, enjoying themselves, but unfortunately I would probably see them spending money and then I would want to spend money and while they’re likely buying things they need, such as first-aid kits or food for their babies, I would buy a carton of cake-batter Oreos for dinner.

Do I crave the tickle of blades of grass dancing around my toes? Just as much as the next person. But I don’t have the motivation to wash my feet today and I don’t want to track worm feces and bird-turd residue and whatever else is in dirt all over my home.

Yes, there’s something incredibly hopeful and poetic about seeing flowers springing forth from the ground when I’m out strolling with my dog. But also my dog’s kind of a jerk who seems to enjoy pooping on flowers, and if we venture near any he’ll sneak a quick squat, and then I’ll have to ignore the post on Nextdoor about it.

I dream of walking down the street, eating mint-chocolate-chip ice cream in a fresh, stinky-sweet waffle cone, smiling as I reflect on the years gone by, but can I enjoy ice cream outside without spiralling into despair about global warming? Who knows!

Of course, the distant sounds of people grilling with their friends in a yard with twinkly lights as if they’re in some sort of real-life beer commercial fills my soul in an almost too-American way, but if I’m outside people might look at me, which I do not want.

Yes, naturally, when I’m walking in the park and see the leaves kissing each other in the wind, I am reminded of vitality, love, connection, plant-based diets, growth, knowledge, wisdom (which is different), know-how (which is also different), sandals, laughter, Sandals Resorts commercials, the capitalist-driven demise of natural beauty, paved paradises turned into parking lots, AM/FM radios, static, space stations, the privatization of space, the hell we hath wrought, and also trees. Then I catch a whiff of hot garbage from the grocery store’s dumpster, which is gross.

So, yes, maybe going outside would make me feel better. But, then again, TV.

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