Day 36: Taking my monster for a walk

I know I've walked since the last post.  But if it's not posted, it doesn't count.

I've been staying inside too much, not going out much.  I saw the DVD "Inside Out," of a girl's emotions, and I thought it interesting that her mom's main emotion was Sadness, until you realize that that is where empathy and compassion come from, and then it makes sense.

I saw this cartoon elsewhere on-line.  The monster looks like it could use a good walk.  I thought for a while and imagined me and my monster, in the apartment.

Me:  I want to get outside.
Monster:  It's cold outside.
Me:  It isn't that cold.
Monster:  There's a lot of traffic.  We could get hurt.
Me:  You're right.
Monster:  There's some M&Ms in the cupboard.  Yellow ones are nice.
Me:  They're calories.
Monster:  They're peanut M&Ms. They have protein.

So then there's more discussion.  And M&Ms get divided up, one for the monster, one for me, and I get some milk to put them in to soak, and then drink and eat them, and then I rediscover the mint Milano cookies, and I like the texture as they melt in my mouth with some more milk.

I thought about taking the monster for a walk.  What would its totem look like?  A sock puppet?  A yarn doll?  A balloon from The Dollar Tree?  

Monster:  The balloon would be good, so that you wouldn't get run over at intersections, and you could be one of the town eccentrics, roaming around with a different balloon every day, giving them away to parents of small children and random strangers on the street,
Me:  How about a stuffed toy from Goodwill?
Monster:  Goodwill is on the other side of Powers Road.  It's a dangerous intersection.  You could get a toy there, but the sidewalks aren't on this side of the street.  And then what would you do with an extra toy.  Popcorn? 

This morning I decided on a blue stress ball that is shaped like a brain that Bend Neurology passed out at some community event last year.  I called it "monster" and put it into my pocket and headed south to Wal-Mart to return an item and get breakfast sandwiches.  From time to time I slipped it back out of my pocket, gave it a squeeze or two, and slipped it back in.  I walked on the east side of the street, where the sidewalks are, but away from Goodwill.

I'd been at Goodwill a few days earlier and spotted a beautiful brooch.  I thought about how wonderful it would look on my steampunk costume, the black and white one that I haven't made yet, because I'm too fat.  On my walk back from Wal-Mart and Sonic, I thought about the brooch and the costume.

Monster:  You aren't going to loose any weight.  When you did all that walking on Pilot Butte,   nothing changed. You aren't going to make your costume.
Me:  But I went down a pant size and I was strong and I got my name on the board. 
Monster:  Big deal.  That was then, this in now.  Look, it's too far off the road, and there's no sidewalk, just fence and the bike path.  We could get hurt, get killed!
Me:  The brooch would look great! I could wear it at my neck or on my hat.  Not a stovepipe, something shorter, with a jaunty brim.
Monster:  No one says jaunty anymore.  That's stupid.  You'll look like Mary Poppins.  The sandwiches are getting cold.
Me:  Look!  The fence only goes half the block, and then we can cut across the Greg Gibson car lot spot and get to Goodwill that way!
Monster:  It's probably not there anymore.  Someone else probably bought it. Or it's got pieces missing.
Me:  Maybe there'll be a nice cloisonné piece I can use for another outfit.
Monster:  I bet if it is there, it'll be like thirteen dollars, which is too expensive.
Me:  ....  I've got you in my hand, and I'm going to Goodwill.

I went in, and while the one I was looking for wasn't there, another one was of black onyx and "black diamond" rhinestones in a darkened silverish backing, two inches across, intricate star design, not a piece missing.   I wasn't going to use any cards to buy it, but the money from the return and a few quarters in my pocket paid for it ($6.99).  The brooch represents hope, which is part of Joy, the hope that I will someday wear my steampunk creations the way I imagine them to be.  I put my monster totem back on the bookshelf and had my sandwich.

Time note: I left the apartment at 11:30, and returned back at 12:50.