Smooth Monday–With A Little Toe Cramp on the Side

You know how they say good art and literature come from pain?  You ain’t gonna get that here today.  I can’t really focus on anything to write about because I’m just kinda boppin’ around, not in any emotional pain or turmoil, not even really ticked off about anything.  The only pain I’m suffering at all right now is my usual tax season affliction, the dreaded TOE CRAMP.  This is because this is the only time of year I get dressed up enough to wear any kind of heels.  For some reason, my feet rebel terribly against high heels. About an hour or two after kicking the things off my feet, my toes spasm so bad I can hardly catch my breath.  It’s painful and scary because it feels like it’s never going to end, and all I can do is bend my toes backward which helps until you have to release them, which brings on a new wave of pain.  I don’t know if my feet are rebelling against the absurd shape of high heels, or if it’s just my psyche rebelling against the girlie thing.  I say this because, even though I may look feminine, and I certainly enjoy being of the feminine persuasion, in many ways I am the anti-woman.  Cases in point:

I have to force myself to go shopping.  I only shop when I really need to.  The only time I get a rush from shopping is if I score a phenomenally great money-saving deal.

I hate pink.  The color generally makes me puke, although I can handle hot pink.  I look like crap in pastels and I do not like them.  Nor do I like floral prints, especially on me.

The worst kind of shopping is shoe shopping.  Not just because the damn things cramp up my feet.  I just don’t get the fascination some women have for shoes.

I don’t think I’d be a very good girl mom, unless I had a daughter that was either an intellectual or a jock.  I just don’t know how much I could handle sitting through dance recitals or worse yet, cheerleading.  And the drama!  Boys are noisy and a little smelly and they sometimes break things, but they are so blessedly drama-free.  And waaay cute.

So how can I complain? I live in a house full of THE cutest guys.  I only have to wear heels  maybe three months out of the year and I can shop online.  On top of that, Soldier Son has been getting his packages delivered to him in Iraq in record time.  Tax season has been going very smoothly so far, and my big project for the weekend, filling out the FAFSA forms for the two college boys, is done.  A Monday like this may not inspire great writing, but I’ll take it.

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February 2008
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