Category: Uncategorized

My mom died on October 27, 1986. How we’ve all made it 24 years without her is nearly incomprehensible to me.

The anniversary of her death is hard each fall, but it seems as though sometimes it’s harder than others. This has been one of the more tough years. I don’t know why, exactly, but it has.

I’ve given this a lot of thought, and I have decided that instead of rehashing the sad and difficult stuff that has been going through my mind recently (you’re welcome. But I reserve my right to be depressing next year), I will think happy thoughts and focus on being thankful.

I’m thankful for the time we had with her, for the strong foundation she gave my sister and me that enabled us to be happy and successful adults. I’m thankful to her and my dad for providing an example of what marriage should be. I’m thankful for the memories we have to share with our kids.

But most of all, I’m just thankful she was my mom.

I am a terrible shoe shopper. TERRIBLE. I never know what to buy… what looks right, what fits right, what’s good quality. So most of the time I just don’t buy any, and then eventually I’ll realize I go to work every day in shoes that look like this:

Aren’t they pretty?

I am SO indecisive about shoes that I walked around DSW the other day for 45 minutes, knowing I had a gift card in my purse… and I still walked out without a thing.

Another problem is that I don’t know what kind of shoes I need. I don’t know what are considered “shoe staples.”

So, of course, I am turning to all of you for help. I need to revamp my shoe wardrobe in a hurry. Any suggestions???

I’m sitting here in the ER, waiting to get my foot x-rayed. Because, you see, I did manage to live through the half marathon, but think I might have broken my foot during the process.

Actually, I think I ran it on a broken foot, because I am smart like that. I injured it more than a week ago, and it’s just gotten worse since then.

So here I sit, in a hospital gown, blogging. Tell me, what about a foot xray necessitates a hospital gown? I think it’s a psychological trick to make sure I know who’s in charge or something.

I’ll let you know what I find out, although I am going to be very embarrassed if the doc tells me I sprained my ankle and should take some motrin, which I suspect will be the case.

Update: that is exactly what happened, and now I feel like an idiot. And a wimp.