Yesterday me and the man were driving to a fun run. A few lights from our destination I spied an SUV roll through a red light and quickly warned Mike to slow down which inevitably turned into a full on break as the SUV slammed into the driver’s side of the car directly in front of us. It’s amazing how quickly car accidents happen and even when you’re not in them your brain is still slow to put the pieces together.
We both got out and checked on the two cars. Elderly drivers in each but the one that got hit was just shaken up. The one who caused the accident however was completely unconscious, cigarette still burning next to him, no visible injuries, but completely and utterly unresponsive. The accident happened right in front of a Centra Care, I mean practically in their parking lot, glorious! We ran in to get some medical personnel only to be met by a response I was completely unprepared for. “I’m sorry, it’s a liability, we can’t send anyone.”
There was no use in yelling at these people who looked like they wouldn’t get up from their chairs for anything except a cookie. But it hurt to know that this man outside their doors could be dying and the priority wasn’t another human being but the liability of their money. How is it that our priorities have gotten so ass backwards?
This question permeated my thoughts all day and into this morning. The sun hadn’t risen when our alarms went off. Cuddly manbear rolled over, wrapped his arms around me and uttered my kryptonite, “I don’t wanna get up.”
So we stayed in bed. Both vowing to hit the gym hard in the evening.
My priorities for the last month have done this sort of dance. A power struggle to figure out who will lead, social/romantic wants or my food/fitness schedule. It would be so easy to have a super model body if I was just a hermit, gah! But life is about making memories and going the hell outside.
For the first time in my life, my mind has taken both the desire for life and the desire for a better life into consideration. Fitness, love, social life have begun to cohabitate. I can go to happy hour but eat beforehand and stick to red wine (pinot noir FTW). I can stay in bed with senior muscle snuggles if I go straight to the gym from work, do not pass go, do not collect $200. It’s always a balancing act. A dance. A struggle to save your own life regardless of the liabilities.