I decided not to go for a walk today. I didn’t have to and there would be no consequences if I didn’t. I was tired and didn’t want to. Case closed. Five minutes later I was dressed and walking out the door. It occurred to me that I didn’t have to go for a walk, but even prisoners get their moment in the yard every day. Not going for a walk was like being in solitary confinement. It didn’t matter how tired I was. It didn’t matter that I would walk the same walk I do every day. I needed to get out. I needed to be in the presence of other people, no matter how interesting things are in the confines of my home. And I talked to two clerks, one at MacDonalds where I had a hamburger and a cup of coffee, not the best coffee and not the best hamburger, and to a clerk at Albertsons to tell him that the machine gave me nine dimes and two pennies in change, which means it probably needs coins. Nothing spectacular. Nothing that amounted to a conversation. The dog I gave treats to on the way to MacDonalds gave me a single, careful bark to get me on the right side of the street, and I gave her treats twice in the same day. And I realized how much better this was than locking myself up for the day. I felt relaxed and meaningful. I felt the sunshine on my arms and the ocean breeze in my lungs, and before I realized it, I was home again typing a distracted blog post.