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the renegade bride

the wild, wacky adventures of a bridal industry insider +newlywed + new homeowner and (in practice)renovation-maven. Whee!

So, I totally failed at Labor Day Challenge. Go ahead and judge me, but I only somehow managed to accomplish the sketch of the garden (check out the post on bulbs and whatnot if you are so into learning about that kinda stuff) and make dinner for the hubs and mother in law.  Our gutters were full of sludge like stuff that Don said was leaves (it looked like something primordal) and we had to clean them before it “came a monsoon” as they say here in the south. And I was tired on Sunday after the wedding Saturday and all I wanted to do was soak in the bubblebath and read Jane Austen’s Mansfield Park as the night before I’d finished watching Lost in Austen on the Ovation Channel (Tivo’ed) and I was remembering how AWESOME Jane Austen was, and I never read Mansfield Park so I wanted to do that, and thusly, I accomplished less than nill. I did, however accomplish drinking some wine (whee) and meeting some cool people and having a nice time with the mother in law, and then went to some neighborly friends for Labor Day eve and ate steak with Chimichuri (so good) and had Bourbon Slush Punch, so that was pretty great. All in all, a pretty fairly decent first Labor Day as Married People.

I guess that would really come down to describe my total and utter selfishness, but no– wait, there’s more.  I have a lot of work to do (read: I am way behind on EVERYTHING that I am supposed to be doing for work, life ,etc– the Labor Day list being but one sad example of my overextended calendar, and I really, really, really need a robot assistant to help me do things. But add to it that there’s new stress that I have to find a new location to operate my business out of in the next six months and there’s no free time to like, sleep really, and I want to whine about that, a lot, because I am a whiny-type person that really gets a kick of out complaints. Just now, to break my tedious whining I Googled “Robot Assistant” and found the following picture:

How awesome is that?

But in my need to do all this other stuff, I just increasingly WANT To do one thing: get a pedicure. I think that pedicures are my Achilles Heel. I honestly would get 3 pedicures  a week if I could somehow manage it financially and time-wisely. I would go and sit in that magical, magical chair and have them take care of my poor, abused, sad feet. Right now, it’s been over a MONTH since my last one, and my toes resesmble something like I’d imagine an Ogre’s toes to look like. It’s pretty gross.  But after a pedicure…well, they will look like new, happy toes that are full of grace. Like the below image, though I’m pretty sure I’ll imagine the rose petals.

My husband does not comprehend or appreciate my love for the pedi action. I dragged him along once and I don’t think he had nearly a good time, because he got a guy doing his (in my opinion the guys are best at the pedicures– they really get in there, and they are precise about the polishing, but I digress) and he said a bunch of “I don’t want a dude rubbing on my feets” which I told him was kind of homophobic, and he said it had nothing to do with that, he just didn’t like dudes rubbing on him. Personally, I don’t care if it’s a pedicure-giving zombie rubbing on me, I have a pretty lax attitude about who can massage my feet (read: anyone with fingers).

So, in selfishness, I am going to plan a pedicure date soon to make my toes (and self) happy.  It’s a small thing, right? I mean, come on…we’re all entitled to a little foot rubbing love. Even if we don’t truly deserve it since we didn’t finish our to-do list, but whatev….



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