This is what I know: there is a moment when you stop mourning the end of summer and start anticipating fall: wool clothes and real shoes and serious skin care and a full face of makeup. And when that moment occurs, jump on it.
This is what I think: everyone who thinks their feet look terrible in the winter hasn't seen mine after a summer of going to the beach and wearing flip flops. I got home from New Hampshire on Sunday, and my first order of business was to give myself the mother of all pedicures. With the good pumice stone, not that useless one I bought in NH. WHAT A DIFFERENCE.
This is what I'm wearing on my toenails: O.P.I. Crimson Carol. It's bright red, sparkly, and it's just the pick-me-up I need.
This is what could change my life: OK, Funny you should ask. My son came home with a few first day of school questionnaires, and that was one of the questions. Or more specifically, "What would you change about yourself?" And I immediately thought: I'd lose weight. About 30 pounds. Maybe 40--it depends on how well my metabolism has handled the seafood and ice creams of summer.
Which made me realize something. Losing weight? Talk about an attainable goal. I mean, it's not like my number one desire is to be six inches taller.
So what's my problem? Easy. It would take a year to do it right.
But I'm going to be a year older, anyway. Why not be a year slimmer, too?
This is what I'm eating: a sandwich made from last night's leftover lemon chicken breasts, lots of lettuce, hold the mayo. See above.