My feet are cold. Bone cold.
Will work for socks cold!
It’s one of those days where I have been warm, truly warm, for only a few minutes. At the end of my run this morning, I started to break a sweat, despite the chilly 38 degree temp and maybe, just maybe my feet thawed.
Then in the shower, I defrosted momentarily, but upon exiting, returned to afore-mentioned frozen status.
It’s my own fault. My favorite socks were dirty so I went without.
Decided to stink up my loafers and go foot commando.
I thought I would be so bold and cheeky in my sockless state, a brazen message to the world that I can handle adversity.
But I was wrong. I am a whiner. A sniveler.
A fair-haired Popsicle whiling away the day dreaming of a roaring fire, a cuppa tea, an enthralling read, and oh yes…
deliciously, decadently, toasty warm toes.
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