Eating and Writing and Writer's Butt

I hear a lot of writers like to eat while they write. I actually don’t have that problem and it’s not because I’m a heroine of self-control. It’s because I have a pretty, let’s say, defined germ phobia. I wash my hands a lot, never touch a bathroom knob if I can help it, even in my own house, and work hard at not touching (my own) facial orifices. I am the inventor of sneezing into your elbow. Call me a weirdo, but check it out—with the outbreak of H1N1/swine flu, the government is spending loads of money telling everyone to do the same thing. So there, to all those people who smirked and whispered behind my back.

Back to writing and eating. Even though I don’t eat and write, I still worry about writer’s butt. Gravity is not your friend, my friend. So, to combat this I try to ride my stationary bike while I imbibe in such pleasures as Dancing with the Stars, Bones and Survivor. But, I’m still sitting, so is this going to work? Anything is better than nothing, but I think one day I should invest in an elliptical machine, so I can give my butt a break and exercise while standing. Maybe with that first royalty cheque?