Shit, I Hate My Feet

So I went to buy some workplace-appropriate flats, since lolmom is tired of my snaffling hers (apparently I "stretch them out" or something) and even though I can wear jeans to work, I can't wear sneakers. Thus, my excursion to Shoe Carnival.

I should mention here that, while I like shoes, I hate shopping for shoes. There are a multitude of reasons for this.

( I am totally going to cut my feet off )

And then I went to the grocery store and spent $21 on fish yay. I should really have bought the frozen grouper, both cost-wise and because I could have gotten more, but I WANTED FRESH. Also, tried and failed to find tea for lolmom (Lol-Mart is all out of Twinings' English Breakfast, and so is Schnucks).

In other news, and to appease the many of you who only read my journal to learn how the kit is doing:

Oliver found his favorite ball (it looks like a crumpled-up piece of foil, and I had to remind lolmom not to throw it away) under the china cabinet. He has been playing happily with it all evening, until he got a little overzealous in one corner of the dining room and knocked the phone off the side table, which triggered a frantic run into the living room at top speed. Also, his default mode is "I'm so cute! Rub my tummy!", which is adorable most of the time but doesn't work so well for those special times when I'm trying to take food into the house. He just had his shots, and now he shouldn't need to see the vet for a year, unless he concusses himself knocking things over.

My moral dilemma persists at a medium pace. This won't resolve it, but it would probably be an antisocial act for me to give J an ulcer by not writing, so I'd better get on that.

l33 out.