The Wrong Foot

A week or two ago, during a workout with Matt, he had me take my shoes off to stand on a foam pad (added instability) while doing a single-leg exercise. He mentioned that day that I can feel free to wear shoes or not when working out in his place, and I found I actually like wearing only socks. So much so, that the last couple of workouts, I've changed from my favorite pair of ballet flats into a pair of boring white gym socks when I get there, then back into my shoes when I leave. Who needs clunky retired running shoes?

This wouldn't be very blog-worthy, but then, in Classic Meg Style, today happened.

Let me just preface this with a wee bit of self-defense: I'm tired. I'm seriously, truly tired. I mean, I am loving the new job, but my body is struggling with this whole get-up-before-the-rooster thing, and the commute, and being on my feet a good chunk of the day. I need another week or two to start settling into it, but meanwhile, I'm reallllly slow on the uptake and maybe a wee bit (a lot) irritable (see Saturday's post). And weepy (see yesterday's).

So when I went to put my right shoe back on after a great workout this afternoon, I was dismayed that it felt...weird. I stuck a finger in there, thinking maybe I had something in the shoe. Nope. I put the shoe back on, wiggled my toes. Still odd.

Then I put the left shoe on. Well, damn. That one felt odd, too! I had remarked to Matt during the process that my shoe felt weird on my foot...then I stopped, looked at him, and said, "Wait..."

"Oh my God, Matt. They're on the wrong feet."

Well, of course he laughed at me.

And that's okay. I laughed at me, too. We both just sat there laughing for a few minutes. Tears--the good, laughing kind--came to my eyes. My face turned bright red as I blushed.

"What I find funny is how long it took you to realize!"

Yup.

There you have it, folks. The State of Meg's Brain...for now. It's never boring, being me.

I'm still laughing a few hours later.