Summer Feets

Tonight, I walked in, took my sandals off, and tiptoed to the bathroom. This is a part of the daily, end-of-the-day, summer routine: rinsing off bare feet stained by the city's grime. You get used to it. Darned if I don't gasp when I first catch a glimpse of my blackened heels at the beginning of every summer, though. There's something halting about seeing the undersides of normally very pale feet turned pitch black!

I stepped into the tub and bent over to roll up my tights a few inches before reaching for the faucet. Turning the handle to the left, my gaze fell on the spout as I positioned my right foot underneath it. Only, instead of the spout, the shower head above gushed a steady stream of cold water. I was FULLY CLOTHED. It would seem that a certain someone who shall go unnamed, but I will mention that this blog shares her name, failed to reset the knob that turns off the shower head after her morning shower. She's a real winner, that one.

I hope you're enjoying this slap silly amazing bipolar weather orgasm. It feels like an incredible beginning to my favoritest of favoritests east coast season of all (here's looking at you, fall!). There are simply no words to describe the incredible lightness all around except, perhaps, just maybe... AWESOMEMAZINGTASTIC.