Dear Sole,
Yeah. I mean you in the corner with the clear plastic sheet draped over your dusty, rubber tread. I've got my eye on you. Don't think for a minute that just because I'm lying here on the floor with 7 pillows propped underneath me in a mad attempt to contort the sciatic pain out of my body that I've forgotten about you. And no, that rolled up yoga mat doesn't hide you from my ire at all.
Oh no.
No way.
I remember.
You and I have a date with my Sauconys, you lazy $!^@*. Now I know it's been nearly a month since we've tangoed. You see all that snow outside. You know full well that these are the kinds of days I love to drip sweat onto your console. Now I know you're laughing at me underneath all that drywall dust laden plastic, I realize that you are chuckling at my sore back and heavy belly. Is that a Mai tai in your water bottle holder??
Even with all your tricks I can still stomp you into the floor. Trust me I'll be back.
Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow but soon.
So be ready. It won't be long now.
Sarah
PS. Sorry I called you a $!^@*. I miss you too.
1 comment:
Love this.
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