I spent Easter Sunday nursing squished toes and cursing the shoes that hated them so on Saturday night. I made a mental note that those shoes are only meant for sleeping. Certainly not for trying to get your be-bop, seagull-in-a-flock, goody-two-shoin', rebel-yellin' on for an 80's cover band. The toes have threatened to jump ship to someone without a high heel shoe fetish. (They hear Naturalizer is making cute shoes now.) So I gave us the Easter treatment - a dye-job for the piggies and a chocolate egg for me. Everyone is happy these days.
I went with that feeling (of happy feet...cue the tap-dancing penguin, if you must) and opted not to go to the baseball game of which I had tickets to. You know, it snowed the other day so not feeling the baseball park vibe just yet. Yet instead of doing my part to ponder Nothing, work my thumb muscles on the remote, and rest my eyes every two hours in typical Sunday fashion, I took it upon myself to....clean.
Like any Good Housekeeping devotee, I did my annual top (of the refrigerator) to bottom (of the floorboard) home-cleaning ritual. I tore through my closets and filled a lawn-size bag with clothes for Goodwill. I moved some furniture around in my sunroom. Mopped the wood floors. Organized some papers.
I can say there is a place for everything now. For now, I went with that good feeling of the day - this Easter - and danced around my house to the new Kaiser Chiefs, admired my toes some more, and rewarded myself with another chocolate egg.