Sex On My Feet

This is not a foot fetish porn site. Today.

A couple weeks ago, I had a list of items to purchase. The first was a day planner which I got almost immediately. Like a complete moron, it took me another week of looking at it to realize that it did indeed have Sundays, they were just less than half of a column under Saturdays. Too much big picture. The second item lends to the title of this post.

New shoes! New shoes!
New shoes! New shoes!

Ahhh, the new foot girls. I cannot really even begin to put into words how much I love a new pair of Nikes! Yes, in this manner, and this manner alone, I am a shoe whore. I’m a Nike fangirl. Ever since I’ve been in the position to buy my own shoes, outside of perhaps one shoe mistake, they’ve all been Nikes. I don’t know what it is about the way that they structure their shoe, or perhaps it’s the weirdness of my foot, but they’re the only shoes that fit me right these days. And for that, I think I might lurve them.

I almost ended up with plain white, but a) they made my feet look huge, and in a size 7 that’s just unacceptable, and b) they didn’t have them in my size (I tried a 7.5 and looked like a clown) and I wasn’t driving across town to the other DSW to go get them because football was coming on. So out of my usual shoebox I stepped because I don’t usually get black sneakers and I almost never buy anything pink/hot pink.

This is where my priorities (or my line of work) are probably out of whack. I have no problem whatsoever dropping $100 bucks on sneakers, however, chances of me shopping for a pair of flats/pumps/heels for work and paying more than about $20 at Payless? Hellz no. It’s the same with my workout gear. $40 yoga pants? Yes. $30 pants for work? Ha, no. It’s not all bad though. While writing isn’t work (yet?), nor is it working out (maybe for my brain), I am considering matching what I spent on bettering myself at work to what I might spend bettering my writing. I still have 2 1 day left to decide. If I do this, it means I push my work project (not actually for work, but for me to learn something “professional”) back a couple months. Not the end of the world, but a decision I have to make rather quickly as procrastination is my middle name. I was going to make it my first name, but I waited too long.


Screenshot_2014-01-21-06-13-31See these three guys over on the left? Today’s trigger points (in the sartorius) are brought to you by the phrases OMG, WTF, and Holy Sh!t that hurts! If you’ve never had the wonderful opportunity to use a foam roller on trigger points, let me try to explain it to you by taking us all back to our respective childhoods.

Perhaps you remember when someone gave you a “frog” in your arm. Yeah, that dick. Imagine if in that spot where you got the frog, you just kept pressing on that spot…on purpose…until it stopped hurting. It sucks. I mean, find one of those three spots on your body and just press into it with your knuckle. It HURTS! But fixing it, or at least giving it the old college try, is what’s gonna sorta help my hip that’s all tight and doesn’t wanna move. Yes, I torture myself with random things every weekday morning that is not a holiday and sometimes on weekends.

Sidebar: I am entirely jealous that one person in this house is going to Breck today instead of going to work. I would probably do the same if we did not have a new person starting today that I’m responsible for training and I didn’t just get a new promotion and I was sure that I had the extra days to take off. Sigh.

You  know, I would say “hey, at least it’s a short week”, but it seems as though short weeks take even longer than regular weeks! I guess getting back into my Zumba routine twice a week should help things move along. And I might as well go since I have the rockingest deal ever from work where I pay such a tiny amount monthly to go to, basically, the most pimped out gym in the area. Easily the biggest perk of my job. (Again, see how my priorities are out of whack.)

So rather than that short week nonsense, let’s go with, “hey, it’s already Tuesday!” instead. Do short weeks feel like they last longer than regular weeks for you as well? Whatever it is for you, rock it out!

Say What?