I'm not a prude but for God's sake, cover yourself up if you're dressing right in front of the door to the women's locker room! I've seen more pussy this past week than Mark Foley has in his whole life. Shazam! In general, I'm cool with the whole locker room scene but I have a couple hang-ups. I don't like talking to a complete strange while either one of us is stripping down. I especially need complete silence while I try to jam my breasts into a sports bra without breaking my neck or dislocating my shoulder. If anything, the locker room helps me make a shopping list of cool workout wear. I don't have anything cool to work out in. I wind up wearing one of the million logo T-shirts I own and yoga pants. My sneakers are cool though: pink, purple, stripey and light.
Unfortunately, my sneaks didn't spare me from a mystery pain on the bottom of my left foot while I worked out tonight. Since it's my left (stroke affected) side and I was actually feeling pretty insistent pain, I knew something had to be really off. I usually feel a dull ache if I have any pain on my left side since the feely part of my brain was nuked by the stroke. So, I got home and discovered that half the ball of my left foot was a blister that had popped. Yup, I basically lack half the skin of the ball of my foot. It's very gross and since I took a shower, stinging.
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