I have always hated the question, "What do you do for fun?" Or, "What are your hobbies?"
I hate them because I don't really have any. I don't scrapbook. I don't lead the Brownie troop. I don't participate in community theater (though I think I'd like it). And the thought of collecting anything makes me shudder.
Today I went to the eye doctor and the screening seemed more thorough than I remembered an eye appointment being. After the usual family medical questions, the woman who performed the glaucoma test asked me what I do in my free time.
I was momentarily confused by this question and how it might relate to glaucoma ... and then it dawned on me that they probably wanted to know about hobbies as they related to my eyes.
So I said, "I like to read. I blog." And all of a sudden, I got on a roll, as if I was on a blind date. "I enjoy cooking."
And out of nowhere, "I run."
At that point, I all but checked out of the two-way conversation, looked down at myself from a spot in the ceiling, and smiled. Smugly.
I guess I have a hobby now.
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