After a record breaking week last week, my blog has hit a bit of a lull. Readership and visitorship is down this week. I'd like to go ahead and take this opportunity to follow the media's path and blame the economy. Certainly, the economy is to blame for everything these days - even this strange rash that has appeared on the underside of my foot.
Given that I am desperate to get my readers something they can really sink their teeth into; something to spark interest like never before, I am writing about something everyone does. This is kinda like when Extra's ratings are sagging and they show Brittney Spears without her underwear for the 100th time. I have decided to write about one of my favorite things in life: sitting.
I enjoy sitting a little too much. The cushion beckons and my butt cheeks follow. My favorite sitting position is hunched, legs straight out, hand in the waistband of my jeans. I also enjoy the one leg curled under the extended leg with the arms over my head position. Another favorite is the sideways on the couch, with knees bent position.
Sitting in perfect comfort requires loosely fitting pants, preferably cotton sweats and moving so that the possibility of even the slightest wedgie is taken out of the equation. My preference is pajama bottoms with a tie waistband. I wear them two sizes too large to account for any wiggle room that may be needed at a moments notice. Socks are also required attire because of the temperature of which our house is kept.
I sometimes feel the urge to sit with one leg folded under my thigh, with the other leg on the floor. This is, in fact, a very comfortable position and I find it soothing to the soul. My heart warms while sitting this way. An unfortunate side effect is that my foot falls asleep and I am rendered useless if there is a break in or I have to use the restroom.
I love sitting next to my wife, but I find that her feet will often poke my thigh, creating an uncomfortable toe to thigh relationship between the two of us. I let her know, look, I can handle your feet on my lap or you not touching me at all, but a toe jab to the thigh is just not cool. It disturbs the entire balance of the sitting universe and throws my sitting rhythm into kaput's.
Often, when I am sitting, I will place one elbow behind my head. I am not sure why I do this and I am not sure I want to know why I do this. It is not for comfort's sake.
When I think about sitting, I think about the small of my back resting on that soft, protruding back rest. I think about leaning against that firm armrest, breathing deeply as if I were in a yoga class. I think about the ten calories an hour I am burn as I do nothing. Even thinking about sitting makes me want to sit.
When I am sitting for the long haul there are some necessary tools of the trade that I must have within an arm shot: the phone, the remote, a drink. Ah, the drink. It must be cool with ice floating and bouncing around like seals in a bathtub. While I sit, the drink must sit on the table on my side or the floor; but not where I may accidentally kick it over. Kicking over a drink completely screws up my sitting. I have to get up, get a towel, the whole ordeal. Look folks, I don't want a chore to do, I just want to sit.
The best sitting is done on a Monday night, when all of the good television is on. I will however, sit on any day. I am not prejudice in what days I will sit. My sitting knows no bounds. I have my preferences, but I promise you this: given the opportunity, I will sit anywhere, any place, on any day. You can take that to the bank.
** Note to readers: This picture is not of me... yet.