blue feet

Sorry I haven't posted, this has been a very busy and eventful week. Long story short, I was rushing all over the place to get everything done before the holidays and something just HAD to come around and make everything ten times more complicated: I sprained my ankle playing basketball on Thursday. Even today it is still swollen and turning a gruesome yellow-purple.

Saturday morning, even though I always tell myself I don't need to check numbers, I stepped onto the scale.

One-hundred and six pounds.

I am a failure.

I was so disappointed and upset and bewildered that I grabbed my dog and went for a walk (or should a say a limp) in the forest. The thoughts in my head were bouncing back and forth and I couldn't think straight: I must have wandered in there for at least an hour. After a while, I realized it was awfully quiet, and that i couldn't hear my dog's footsteps behind me. That's when I noticed I had no clue where I was. Of course you may be thinking, silly Jillian, why don't you follow the footprints you left in the snow back home? That's what I tried to do, but let me tell you it's a lot harder than you'd think. I had gotten into the very thick part of the woods and just getting untangled from the knot of branches was difficult. My ankle was hurting and every step I took made me wince. My short boots were filled with snow, my pants were wet, and I had nothing else on but a jacket and a pair of gloves. I kept calling my dog but he didn't answer, and I was starting to get pretty scared. At some point, I couldn't walk any longer, so I took off my boots and climbed up in a tree, where I tried to warm my feet. I thought I would be crying for my mommy, but really, it was an amzing experience. I felt like I was alone in the world, like my entire life resumed to taking one step after the other in the snow, even if it was hard, even if it was painful. I probably would have fallen asleep there, but I must have a guardian angel up above, because my dog came back for me! I absolutely adore that animal. I told him to "go home" and slowly followed him until we reached that familiar train track, which runs behind my house. From there it took me about half an hour to get back home and my feet were a strange purple-blue I'd never seen before.



Well, that was my adventure of the week. I owe a lot to Kovu, my dog, if not my life, then at least my ten toes. And if that didn't burn any calories then I don't know what will.

At any rate, I'm still alive. Humongous, but alive. Sometimes I wonder if I would have been better off just dying there...