I’m definitely limping. I see Lisa looking at me sideways and wince. The two of us usually power walk laps around the block while our boys are in chess club. I asked Jake if he still wanted to participate since we don’t live up this way anymore, but he looked at me like I’d just killed his puppy or something. Shows what I know about teenagers.
Lisa takes a swig from her water bottle. “Why in the hell are you walking like that,” she asks, seeming concerned. It’s been a few weeks since I brought the treadmill home. Between Jake starting his new high school and Todd being an asshole and my growing frustration at not having a job, I’ve been pounding out a lot of miles on that thing.
And it would seem you get what you pay for.
I choose not to tell Lisa I trash picked a shitty foot-breaker
