Something's Afoot

Sometimes a girl just wants to wear fancy.

Granted, that doesn't explain my current outfit (a shredded pair of paper-thin tan shorts, one brown sock and a grey t-shirt that reads "i > u"), but--hey--it's not even 6 a.m. yet. And I'm on vacation.

Besides, I'm in pain and pain has no dress code.

Got me a case of plantar fasciitis, which is fancy talk for "I walk like my Great Aunt Irene," which is plain speak for "Sweet mother of mercy! Someone just hammered a nail in my heel!"

I suppose I should take some comfort in the fact that not a one of us in the East High library can walk right these days. Angie, who's like 2 1/2 years pregnant, will probably give birth by the time I finish typing this sentence. And Roxi and Brenda and me? Well, apparently, plantar fasciitist is catching, like a spring cold.

God help the teen who raises his hand for help in our library these days. If he catches the attention of all four of us, he's in for one big eyeful of zombie as we lurch our ways toward him. No surprise that kids seem to be favoring the self-service approach in ye' old library these days. Who can blame 'em?

We come back from a weekend and all we talk about is a new stretch we learned or some new inserts we snagged at the local shoe store.

And shoes! In the library, we talk about shoes the way Imelda Marcos collected them--in great, heaping helpings! Only our shoes aren't those sexy, little numbers that aerate a lawn when you cross it. No, the shoes that get our pulses racing are those clunky, thick-soled numbers that say "I just got back from a clogging competition in Cedar Falls and we got fourth place!"

Even as I type this, at least half of my brain is focused on my left heal--that explains the lackluster writing. I'm trying out a little something my sis suggested--repeatedly rolling an ice-filled water bottle underneath my aching heel.

Just three days into my nine-day vacation, and I'm already anxious to get back to the gals to show 'em my new, sassy inserts and the way they make me walk nearly upright. Boy, are they gonna be jealous!