The dogs and cat sit beside one another at the top of the stairs intensely staring at me.
Acoustic music is blasting from the computer, the windows are open, an Ocean breeze whips through the Palm Trees and the pungent aroma of the Marsh ... the smell of sex in the Tropics ... hangs in the air.
Dressed in black running shorts and a long sleeve UGA tee shirt, I take a moment to admire my figure.
I've dropped 25 pounds or so in the last month or so can see parts of my body I haven't seen in a while.
My Beer Belly no longer resembles a Keg but's now not-quite a six pack.
"Hmmm," a beer would be nice when I finish cleaning the steps.
The pale of water is filthy black so I take it outside, throw it behind the outdoor shower, turn on the hot water, lose the laundry and jump in.
"Oh yeah," I say out loud, "that beer."
Leaving the water on I stroll upstairs, pop a cold one and stroll back outside to the steaming shower.
A lady walks her down the street but she doesn't notice my mostly all over tan. There are a couple of spots the sun has trouble getting to but I don't worry about it too much.
Standing under the water, I take a swig of beer and look at the blue grey clouds moving quickly overhead.
Paul Thorn music wafts through the open windows and I sing along, "Oh I sin on Saturday, I repent on Sunday, then I tell myself I won't procrastinate on Monday ..."
It's cause for another swig of beer! I haven't procrastinated on Monday because I'd promised Sarah I'd wash the stairs and they're done!
She's going to be so proud!
Finishing the beer, turning off the shower, I stroll ... not streak ... down the deck to the porch ... upstairs past the dogs and cat who still stare at the stairs ... into our bedroom and my closet where I grab a fresh pair of black running shorts and another long sleeve UGA tee shirt.
Which makes me think about Cinderella again.
If she would have just attended the damn ball dressed as she normally did ... it would have saved her and everybody else a Hell of a lot trouble!
As good of a story as Cinderella is, I think it would be better had she shown up dressed in rags with an attitude, ready to kick some sister's ass, flip off the Bitch of a Step Mother and conquer a Prince.
"I really am Wonder Woman," Sarah tells me later in the day.
"I know," I instantly agree. "I think it's rubbing off on me too."
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