Post-Op Day 12: Clive Owen

So, in an email yesterday my bandster friend C had a mama moment and told me that the money I spent on my band would be wasted if I don't exercise. She said that I am no longer allowed to ride the elevator at work unless Tom Cruise was waiting on me. My email reply: Can it be unless Clive Owen is waiting on me?

I tried walking up the two flights of stairs and made it through 36 steps before my legs started burning. The last 12 of 48 were a killer. *gasp*cough*gasp*cough*cough. But I did it!

This morning, as is my routine upon arriving to work, I hailed the elevator and, as I stepped on, I saw a half sheet of paper taped to the wall of the elevator. There, looking out at me, was Clive Owen. The words read "You weren't really going to take the elevator were you?....... I'm watching you....... You never know where I'll be....... xoxoxo - Clive."

Which caused me to laugh out loud. And turn around. And walk up to the second floor to see my friend C, laughing the whole way.

She said she had been waiting to hear my laugh. And then she apologized for forgetting that I work on the third floor, stating that I need to start small. Silly C. And yet, I still have a smile on my face, glancing frequently at Clive Owen looking out at me from the side of my computer monitor.