The Fit Bit Bites Back

Yesterday, my fit bit gave me a frowning face, (not really), but I didn't get the happy face sticker I'd managed for the past week.  I only walked 6,145 steps that day. (I wasn't lazy, but I was tired).   So I slept in, we played cards, I caught up on the laundry, wrote a few starts to pieces but nothing that gelled.  We got to 10:30 pm.  I wasn't going to go outside and walk up and down the driveway just to make my wrist happy.

That evening, I charged the thing, read a book, took a bath and went to bed.   This morning, I forgot to put it on...and I think the fitbit, well, I think it is thinking...is it time to start singing Righteous Brothers?  I mean, it's three o'clock in the afternoon. We've gone to mass, we've had brunch, and my wrist has informed me, I've got 9000 steps to make it to the happy face.

My children are here. They are resting, playing games together, or sitting on my bed, watching recaps of prior Indy races. (Paul loves watching them).  The need to move seems like a very unimportant thing.

The fitbit...you never wear me now when it's time to go to bed.....
and my little nags have failed to get into your head...
You're not trying hard to show it....baby....but baby....baby you know it...

I looked at my wrist. There's a little fitbit sized shaped not quite burn but impression.  I think it's trying to bite me.   MOVE you slug.  MOVE.

Oh look, there's that book I've been wanting to finish.   Maybe I'll create a Lit Bit, which details how many words you read.   I'd do much better.   Or a Sleep Bit...which praises you for naps...

My fitbit perks up...I do monitor sleep you know....all you have to do is wear me to bed.

Nope.  I like to sleep free range.

Fitbit: I'm not sure this relationship is going to work...