Thursday, November 15, 2007

The Conspiracy of Socks

I've saved 82% of what I need for the fancy wedding dinner. With my next paycheck I should reach the goal amount. Fan-tastic.

At my physical a couple weeks ago, I found out I'm an inch and a half taller than I thought. Consequently, I must buy pants. See I was trying to ignore it, but my current pants fall too short, and -- since losing more weight -- are too baggy. (Add in a pair of scuffed black shoes and I am the picture of professionalism!)

That said, I will be braving the mall on Black Friday.

I am mentally psyching myself up in every spare moment. You WILL wake up before 5am on a Friday. You WILL fight to reach the sale rack. You WILL, like your warrior ancestors (probably one in their somewhere), stare down the shopping beast and return triumphant with new and stylish skins! Raaaaawwwwrrrr!

And some black socks. Don't forget socks. I hate spending money on socks. All this saving money backfires because I've trained myself to ask about every single purchase: this or a house? House wins over socks every time, except I can't NOT wear socks in winter. Stupid mandatory footwear.

Recently I discovered I can do a real push-up or 10. I'm 30 years old and I'm doing my first real push-ups, not from the knee. Is that sad? It might be sad.

The cats remain unimpressed.

1 comment:

Lily said...

Yay, taller means better BMI, although you're probably too buff for that to be an accurate measurement anymore.

Braving a big city Black Friday -- you're a braver woman than I.