I’m slow at everything.
I got the corrections back for my current freelance project last week, and it’s taken me HOURS to finish them. Just measly corrections, and they’ve taken me forever. On the bright side, I am getting paid for this. It’s amazing how you get paid for stuff in the real world! On the less-bright side, I work so slowly that I always charge for fewer hours than I actually work because I’d never get hired if I told the truth. If I really got paid for the hours I work, they’d owe me a fortune. As it is I’m probably working for like 2 bucks an hour.
Whatever. I finished it for now! I can blog again with (almost) no guilt. (I wouldn’t have any at all, if I’d finished, or started, my Christmas shopping at this point.)
Now, while I’ve always known I work slowly, I apparently also move really slowly. Lately, it’s beginning to dawn on me that I’m a slow runner. This is different from being a runner who is just not fast. I’m REALLY SLOW.
I had the most fabulous running buddy back in PA who, among the many fabulous things about her, ran at pretty much the same pace I did. My other running buddies were guys, so I kind of expected to run fast while they ran slow. It was a lot of work; I usually came up with excuses for cancelling on them.
So you can imagine how pleased I was to hear some of the runners (all women) at Crossfit down here confess that, “We don’t run. We shuffle.”
Success! They must be just my speed.
I went for a little mile-and-a-half jaunt with one of these friends after our WOD the other night. And I died. Trying to chat and breathe and move my feet at that pace was so not working out for me.
Dang, if she’s a shuffler, what does that make me? A turtle?