I destroyed my left foot this weekend tripping over a small stair. Like, perpendicularly jammed it into the step right in the part I had surgery on and face-planted on the ground. It hurt so bad I can't even walk normal and thought wearing uggs today would be comfortable and protective, but I just ended up tripping over my bear paw feet more than usual. In other news I put lotion on my face after I got out of the shower and maybe I didn't dry my face of all the way but it's running into my eyes, stinging like lotion should when it gets in your eyes, and making me squint fiercely at the computer screen.
This song would come on in Conad (the grocery store in Florence) last semester and I am feeling extra nostalgic about last semester today. The walks home from class, in particular. I would be so hungry and know I didn't have any food at the apartment so I'd stop in just for stuff to make dinner that night. Sometimes I'd get a muffin at the bakery on the way in because I'd be too hungry to wait til I got home to eat. There were 'albicoca" muffins which were like buttery vanilla with a little mango filling and white chocolate shavings on top. And there was also chocolate. I got the albicoca more times than I'd get the chocolate, but both were delicious.
Inside would be crowded and chaotic and foreign and scary and I couldn't use my vic card and I never, ever thought I'd miss it like I do. And I mean Harris Teeter is nice and has clean floors, packed full with all the good brands and I can actually see what kind of cheese I am buying like Sargento or the colby-monterey jack kind instead of just picking one that seemed somewhat provolone-like. But I miss when I had to pick a random seran-wrapped block of cheese from the pile of assorted blocks of cheeses and it ended up being the best cheese I ever had. It sliced nicely and tasted not too sharp, not too mild. And all my roommates would agree about how good it was. But when we wanted to go get more of it, we couldn't remember what the make-shift label had said, much less be able to pick it out again. So that would be the first and only time I'd ever have that cheese again. And we'd say stuff like "remember that cheese you got that one time that was so good!!" and next time anyone went grocery shopping, try to pick out the same kind of cheese. I'd pick one up and hold it in my hand like "hm, was this it? I don't know! What if it's not! I hope it is!" And it usually wasn't. But then that time I'd pick out a different brand of pasta, and it'd be this thick, homemade kind that filled me up with one bowl. And the next day I'd be so excited for dinner to go home and eat more of this good kind of pasta. So it didn't matter that I didn't get the good kind of cheese that time because the kind of pasta I happened to get was so good I didn't care about what kind of cheese it was.
I'm still squinting from this god forsaken lotion in my eye. Gotta go wash this out.
I'm still squinting from this god forsaken lotion in my eye. Gotta go wash this out.
