Well, the gig is up. Your clever ruse has been exposed. Today, I moved. And mostly, all I feel is a pervasive sense of, "Owwwwww!"
Don't ask me why I decided I needed to get off the couch and move. Probably it was mostly motivated by the gnawing desire to make a run for the beach, a desire that couldn't be sated because the weather at the shore today is basically meh.
So, I decided to take a drive up to North Carolina. I live uber-close to the border, so taking a drive to see the mountains, not a big stretch.
Somewhere along the meandering trip, I decided to program the TomTom to take me to Chimney Rock. The basic theory was to go see if I could see the rockface. Get a nice pic or two, despite the annoying cloud cover.
The drive was pretty. Meandering back roads through North Carolina's apple country, where you can stop at a stand every ten feet and buy one of five thousand ways they've figured out to make an apple unhealthy.
So, anyway, I find myself at the gate of the parking, doling out the fee and realizing that maybe I should make an honest effort since I'm forking out dough to go see a rock. And for the next couple of hours, I let insanity take over as I find myself crawling up this endless, steep, rickety, staircase from hell.
Let's set the mood: I am horrified by heights. I have arthritic knees. I am the most out of shape person on the face of the Earth. I hate stairs because whenever I'm stressed I have weird dreams about having to use crumbling stairs over giant gaping holes, and god forbid they should have handles, right?
Yeah, smart move, writer girl.
But somehow, I managed to end up on top of a giant rock, crawling out sorta-close to the barriers to keep foolish tourists from falling over the side.
Sidebar: Those barriers? Not so high. The foolish tourists? Out in force. Case in point: One family who decided to demand all their children climb a tree positioned just so that if one of the kiddies took one misstep, they'd be dead in a heartbeat.
Great parenting, America! Photo ops always eclipse the safety of your spawn! *thumbs up*
The brainless mother of this troupe also found it perfectly normal to have two totally strange men ask for a picture with her children. She pressed them up all around the strangers and clicked away for them. Score one for the creepers, I guess. *facepalm*
Anywho, I took pictures. And I eventually made it back to the ground. And now I HURT. But I did it. So neener neener to all y'alls who spent Sunday on a couch (and who I secretly envy).