Excuse my grossness. And the makeup I’m sporting leftover from last night. (I don’t want you to think I attempt the smoky eye look specifically for the gym). I just got home from my two-mile run (what what!). This is what I discovered when taking my shoe off. What did I do?!?! First I was like, “huh. How is my sock stained? I didn’t notice that earlier.” Then I got smart and was like, “holy cow, how is my toe bleeding?”
Let’s rewind, shall we?
Could it have been from my Guess heels? NO!!!! Maybe??? I do remember some weirdness going on in my foot as we were walking back to my friend’s house from the Seven-Eleven. And to be clear, I don’t party at Seven-Eleven. A night of dancing until 4:00 at Big City aka Big Shitty requires refueling in the form of a krispy kreme donut. Yes it does… Not my idea, but it was a good one. Cathryn and I split it. We argued a little about the amount of donuts we needed to acquire. I was very assertive about only getting one. We had an appointment for hangover food at Stella’s Diner in the morning. I did not want this to ruin it (I highly recommend the Firehouse special, but their hashbrowns are a little bland for my taste). Donuts are an interesting departure from the hangover food of my college era (probably half a pizza from my beloved Gumby’s- with ranch). But I kind of like it. In my fiesty-ness, I tried to get a discount from the man working at Seven-Eleven. I thought it mattered if these donuts were fresh as in just brought in, or if they were nearing the 24-hour mark. He told me they were fresh. Right…
Another poor decision under a slight influence of vodka clubs. Red Ivy can be blamed for that one. Not Big City. By the time I got to Big City I was done drinking. Red Ivy was where I decided to donate the majority of my money. So we could do things like this:
Yes, if you didn’t know, I am 24 going on 12.
So now here I am. Hungover. Bloody foot. Waiting for my girls to come over so we can burn down the kitchen in attempts to make some homemade caramel. Should be interesting.
I had considered doing The Shred again (slightly addicted), but because I was eyeing the nearest trash can throughout the majority of my little run, I’ll pass. Instead, I’ll just have to do my best at not being one of those people who eats their weight in food during the Super Bowl. Which is a shame. Because I do enjoy some good deep dish.