Sunday, March 23, 2014

My Feet Are Downright Desperate!

Enjoying coffee together this morning, my husband asked me my plans for the day. Even though he knew I had to work, he also knows I try really hard to spend at least four hours outside every Sunday. Today, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't move that idea forward in my mind. 

I honestly don’t hate winter. Truth is, I work really hard every year to survive winter. From Hallowe’en to Easter, I have to force myself to get off my fat ass and venture the hell outside.

Historically, the seasonal weather has me trek in footwear stages; flip flops to sneakers, to rubber boots, to snowmobile boots, to snowshoes, to rubber boots, to sneakers, to flip flops. It’s not rocket science but it helps me process when I'll eventually get the sunlight, as well as my life back. 

Aren't the perfect?
(Fine print reads... Meant for sand not snow!)
Taken: February 2014
In hindsight, I suppose the blind side happened when I went from rubber boots (in the fall of 2013) to snowshoes, which is where I’ve been stuck ever since. 

Pushing my buttons and tired of my bitching, my husband sarcastically announced 'no matter what the weather'... In two weeks, he was going to start wearing shorts to work.

Totally unimpressed by his lack of empathy for my plight, I immediately went upstairs on a mission. I removed my fuzzy socks and began wearing my brand new (very sexy) flip flops around the house.

Let's face it. You can look at my behaviour in a couple of different ways: A) Desperate times call for desperate measures. B) There's more than one way to skin a cat. C) Leave me alone I'm totally pouting and pissed with winter... or D) All of the above.

She's all of the above Baby... ALL OF THE ABOVE!!