I's Tired

I think I got about four hours of sleep this morning. I'd already been tossing and turning with my good ol' buddy insomnia for a couple of hours when a raucous thunderstorm moved in last night and started making a scary racket just as I was on the verge of finally drifting off to sweet, sweet slumber. At first I was overjoyed to hear the sounds of rain, because yay, end of drought! But then it grew loud enough to wake Matt and scary enough to make me get out of bed to turn on the TV and make sure a tornado wasn't bearing down on us. When I saw that it was "just" 60 mph winds, I turned it off and we went back to bed, where Matt went back to sleep and I went back to tossing and turning. At about 4 AM I got up and took half a Benadryl and read until it started to kick in, and I think I finally fell asleep around 5:00. And then my dog woke me up a mere two hours later, and it took me another long while to get back to sleep. So when I had to get up by 10:00 to get ready for "lunch" (aka, breakfast) with my mom and sis, you can bet your sweet bippy that I drank me some more coffee. Oh yes, I did.

Today is my Big Sis's birthday, so my mom took her out to lunch, as per tradition, and I was invited to tag along, also as per tradition. I thought it was just going to be lunch, and then I would be returned home where I could nap the afternoon away, but as it turned out they had shopping plans that took the better part of the afternoon. Which is actually fine, because I enjoyed myself despite running the risk of getting shot in the head by someone who mistook me for the forerunner of a zombie invasion.

It certainly didn't hurt that my mom took pity on my broke-arsed status and bought me these (except in this color) after she saw me admiring them, despite my protestations that I have nothing to wear them with and no place to wear them, for the simple reason that they were both cute and 80% off (plus another 30% with a coupon she kept brandishing at us) and therefore they shouldn't be passed up on principle. This might surprise some folks, but I've always had a bit of a shoe obsession, but I've forced myself to curtail it in the last few years. So it was definitely nice to get a pair of shoes for the sole reason that they're cute and they make me happy, and not because they serve a particular function or fill a necessary wardrobe niche (i.e., neutral dress flats). In short: CUTE SHOES! YAY!

Insomnia's not the only reason I'm tired. I'm also starting to be just plain worn out. We've had appointments every day this week, and it will continue until the weekend. On Monday, we had to trek out to the university campus 45 minutes away to pick up Matt's textbooks. On Tuesday, we had to go meet with DHS to see if we qualify for assistance with Matt's impending gallbladder surgery (good news: we do). Today was lunch and shopping, and tomorrow and Friday will be grocery shopping and other errands, which we've taken to splitting over two days because getting them all done on Thursdays has been exhausting. That might not sound like that much, but when you're used to hardly ever leaving the house except to go buy groceries a couple times a week, this much having to get dressed and get in the car in one week is a shock to the system. And my system is definitely looking forward to a day to stay home and get over this feeling of "Fire bad, tree pretty."

Food & Body: The Motivational Power of New Shoes

Unlike most folks this time of year, I've been putting off going to the gym. This was a conscious decision, made before January even got here, mainly because I hate lines. I barely squeeze out enough time to get in a good workout as it is, without having to wait in line for a locker, for a treadmill, for an empty lane in the pool, for a shower... you get the picture. In January, all of these things have lines.

The trouble with putting off your quest to get back in shape and eliminate the evidence of eggnog and Christmas fudge from your derriere until February, when most New Year's Resolution-makers are losing their resolve ...is that it's February, and resolutions are losing their resolve. The year is already losing that New Year smell, and with it it's clean slate and all of the shiny new motivation it carried.

This is why it's a good thing I didn't wait to buy new gym shoes. Between a Kohl's Christmas gift card burning a hole in my wallet and a perfectly-timed super-sale on athletic shoes, I got myself a brand new pair of running shoes for Christmas (thanks, Mom!). Of course, with the $0.99 shipping option they took forever to get here, but here they are, all pristine and serious-looking and just begging for their first date with a treadmill. A recent trip to the thrift store also scored me several cute new (to me) workout outfits, and now suddenly I can't wait to haul my butt to the gym.

Of course, I wouldn't need any of that if I stuck with my preferred workout of last year, which was swimming. But I'm not about to strip down to my bathing suit in front of actual people until I've done a few weeks on the treadmill. Not really--at least, I like to think that I have more self-confidence than that, and that the real reason is, well, have you ever tried swimming laps after weeks and weeks of not working out at all? Two. That's the number of laps I can swim before I feel like I'm going to die. Wheezing while your face is in the water? Really not fun. And it's not even that big of a pool, y'all.

So my new serious running shoes and my cute workout clothes will be sticking to the treadmill, and the weights, and the floor for pilates for a few weeks before I get back in the pool. Hopefully by then the water aerobics folks will have dwindled down enough to make room for me.

An exercise in torture

Last Night

"Wow, look at all these adorable high heels in my closet. These shoes are fabulous. Why do I never wear these?" [Picks up a pair of bronze peep-toed stilettos] "I have a perfect outfit for these! I'm glad I painted my toenails today, they'll look great in these. Oh, I'm going to be so pretty at work tomorrow, everybody will think I have a job interview or something!"

Today

"Ow. Ow ow owwwww! Effing shoes! Why do I still keep you in my closet? Why do you hate me? Well, you know what? It's mutual. Tonight you're going in the Goodwill box. Right after I soak my shredded feet. OW!"

My feet are not made for peep-toed high heels. My big feet slide forward and cram my big toe through the peep hole, and it hurts like a son of a biscuit-eating bulldog. Forget water boarding. They should just keep a big box of cheap three-inch peep toes at Guantanamo and make the prisoners walk around in them all day. They'll be spilling their terrorist secrets within the first hour.

Kill me now.