Once again itís time to reflect on the fact that Bethany is my ultimate hero in life.
Given the fact that I canít think about anything that has to do with school (with the exception of poetry, which plagues my every waking moment), it figures that one quirky comment would exercise my mind to a ridiculous extent.
I call Bethany after class, and she relates to me her latest dilemma.
ďI canít do Tae Bo after it gets dark,Ē she says.
ďWhy? I donít run when it gets cold, but thatís because it just sucks,Ē I say.
In all her enlightenment, she says, ďPeople can see in my windows. I donít want people to see me doing Tae BoĒ.
I love this. Isnít it true thought? Arenít we all like this?
I laugh heartily, then explain all the reasons thatís ridiculous.
Itís not so weird to see someone doing Tae Bo that people would stand in the middle of the street to watch. People do Tae Bo. We all have cousins or friends or neighbors who do Tae Bo. We all at least know someone who knows someone who does Tae Bo. Now, if you were practicing tantric sex in your living room, people might stop and watch.
Someone would have to actually look long enough to even notice, anyway. I mean, theyíd be across the street or at least on the sidewalk, and anyone just glancing at your house probably wouldnít even notice you, let alone your movements. And if someone is looking in your window long enough to realize youíre doing Tae Bo, you need to know about it anyway.
I could keep going, but then I realize that Iíve been far too thoroughly analyzing Bethanyís Tae Bo problem and that I should be doing something productive. So I tell her that itís actually probably normal for her to feel that way. She tells me it is normal. We agree that itís not rational, but itís normal. She wins, and Iíve lost my excuse to procrastinate.