Going to the podiatrist. Yet at 2:15 tomorrow afternoon, that is precisely where I shall be. I have a painful ingrown toenail on my left foot that I MUST get taken care of before we head off to holiday bliss. Am I scared? You bet! I'm willing myself not to think about the pain, but rather to focus on the fact that I am bringing my bedroom slippers for the drive home.
I realize that this paragraph is going to get a comment from my mom who has had this procedure done and assures me it's not so bad. I also feel guilty about whining about my toe hurting since my mom had someone else's organ put into her body last December. But what can I say? She's a tough old bird. Perhaps in comparison to my c-section it won't seem so bad...I wonder if they'll give me an epidural? Can't hurt to ask!
I spent the majority of this week struggling with a stomach virus. BLEH. The only good thing about said virus is that my weight loss has now hit the 20 pound mark. That's a heck of a way to lose three pounds, though. If I return from our holiday food fest (aka: Visiting our families) at the 15 pound mark, I'll still be happy. I fear my mother in law will serve fried pork chops and my grandmother will make divinity, so the odds are not in my favor.
It is supposed to snow here tonight. I moved back to the south to avoid such things and currently have no clue where my scarves, gloves or winter hats are. My child also refuses to wear socks and, often, pants, so we will not likely be going out tomorrow. Except me, to the podiatrist. In bedroom slippers.