I have a problem with leaving my apartment. Not as many of you think I do, assuming I’m some sort of hermit what with being unemployed (OK, true, but that’s not what I’m referring to). I leave my apartment, lock my door, walk down 1-2 flights of stairs and then remember I forgot my cell phone. I go back up to get it, repeat the earlier process, and then remember that I forgot to grab the garbage like I was going to. Wash. Rinse. Repeat. And the recycling. Wash. Rinse. Repeat. My camera and that overdue DVD.

And again and again and again.

The odd thing is that I’m not at all a forgetful person in any part of the world save for the 30 square feet in front of my apartment. Or perhaps I should think of it as having a million great ideas in those 30 square feet, and I should be thankful and in awe of such hallowed ground. Either way, I think I owe most of my recent weight loss to going up and down the stairs four times as much as necessary.

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