27 June, 2006
yo, so i'm sitting here filing my feet after our week-long camping trip to quebec, and i am amazed at the amount of dead skin my feet generate. i am like those south american pygmy jungle people who don't need to wear shoes. i grow my own soles! if only i could change them according to need. you know, have in-grown, sexy high-heels for the weekend outing, a nice firm grippy sole for a hike on the niagara escarpment, euro-style sensible walking sole for those trips to toronto. i just looked down and saw a pile of what looks suspiciously like sawdust on the floor. if i was the vacuuming type i'd go get the machine now, luckily i am not, so i'll just kick it under the armchair, where it will linger until we move (or i can be motivated to wash the floors for the mother-in-law's visit - not likely). but i've told myself that i will read mimi smartypants until i finished smoothing my feet and there seems to be no end in sight, unless, captivated by mimi, i have scraped through the meat and am now filing the bone, which would go a long way to adequately explaining the disturbing hugeness of the pile of sawdust at my feet. just thought i'd share.