It’s 5am here. I have been wide awake for just over 2 hours now with the worst MOFO heartburn. I guess that’s my punishment for guzzling down a 4 course spicy degustation last night for Rob’s birthday. It’s OK, you don’t need to feel sorry for me.
I can, however, distract myself with the best pedicure I have ever had. Ever. Yesterday morning my feet were bathed, scrubbed, rubbed, massaged, loofered, pumiced, scraped, clipped, polished and they look fabulouso. I think I took about 8 or more shots of them yesterday because I was amazed by their beauty. I’d look down and see them all neat and square and shiny and glossy and think “Oooh holiday snap! SNAP!” And so I did (snap) over and over. To the point where Rob said “I think we’ve got the toes already.” Boys just don’t get these important matters do they? I think the last ‘proper’ pedicure I had was almost 2 years ago, using the word ‘proper’ meaning dodgy Asian chain place that gave me an infection so bad I almost had to have my toenail removed. Eeeew.
There is something so nice about having time. To do things for yourself. Moisturise & shave your legs, paint your toes, showering – time that I never usually get. I’m going to make more of that time when I get home. Time for me. And my pretty toes.
Shame they will be covered in woolly socks and boots…