Remember back when I made fun of all you fools who wear socks to bed? Well, after a couple months of bitching about how I just can't seem to warm up (have I mentioned how ABSURDLY cold this winter has been?), Joe finally convinced me to make sock-wearing a habit and now I am addicted. If I'm at home, whether I'm watching my stories or soundly sleeping in bed, I am in socks. And if I'm not in socks, I practically feel naked. Lucky for me, my mom finds it necessary to buy me a buh-zillion pairs of socks EVERY year for Christmas, so I am well stocked up. That hasn't kept me from seriously considering these Henrik Vibskov cuties, though (apparently, they're unisex sized and not just for men).
I wear socks all around the apartment but I can't bring myself to wear them in bed. I awake in the middle of the night with the distinct feeling that my feet are being smothered and I will die of oxygen deprived feet. Death by foot suffication aside, those are rad.
ReplyDeleteI've also taken to wearing socks all the time, mainly because I've discovered I have Chilblains on my feet from wearing silly footwear in cold weather (when my feet heat up the blood vessels expand too fast or something and discolor and create red dots on my toes). I know, really pleasant. I feel like a character out of Dickens.
ReplyDeleteman, this is as upsetting as when you went AWOL on team flip phone! celia, soul sister, you leave me hanging!
ReplyDeletesocks are my all time favorite gift to receive (or a nice bottle of scotch). I request socks and more socks Every XMAS.
ReplyDeleteSMART WOOL. Oh, man.
ReplyDelete