Hmmm. a pretty article.
I never really understood the joy and necessity of putting your feet up.
I have understood since about age 30 the need to slow down.
I have understood since about age 32 the need to sit down and catch your breath.
I have understood since about age 35 the overwhelming weakness of serious illness that necessitates occasional long conversations with my brain and my body to get up and just get out of the car, or climb some stairs, or even to walk to the kitchen and back.
I used to sit for 5-10 minutes at a time just summoning the strength to accomplish such feats.
But today, on this warm June day, as I sit here with round pregnant belly and swollen ankles and feet, trying not to dread August, I suddenly GET how nice it is to just stop and put up your feet.
Don't even get me started on napping. I could almost have an orgasm just thinking of it, let alone DOING it lately.
. . . . Random thoughts about nothing in particular, executed with alternating fits of bitchiness and/or sentimentality.
2 comments:
I'd rub your feet and ankles if I knew it would make you feel better!
put your feet up now, you're about to get real real busy chasin a youngun
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