I picked up my dose in college. It probably came from the shower floor, but given that we are talking about a gang shower in a male dormatory, you might as well call it a toilet seat. I’m talking about the nasty foot, of course. What else would I have been putting on the floor of a college gang shower? [Editor’s note: Thank God for Akismet!] There are lots of things you can do with a nasty foot. I have enjoyed scratching it after work. It’s a very meditative process. Maybe a couple of times a week you can floss it with an old sock, preferably one that has gotten a little rough. Don’t do this everyday because you will draw blood, but when you do do it, go ahead and let the dog lick your foot afterwards. Don’t judge, just trust. At least and until you begin doing Bikram yoga, at which point you will feel compelled to take remedial steps for your nasty foot.
Or at least I did, especially after I got the Yogi Toes non-slip towel (Kali edition.) This towel is black, so when my hot, sweaty, nasty foot began to shed layers of skin during class, they showed up really well on the towel. This in and of itself would not be the worst thing in the world, given the fact that Bikram yoga is just kind of the nasty all the way around. The problem is that my right foot is nasty and that is the foot that goes to the top of the towel during triangle pose and the top of the towel is where my head goes for cobra pose. I have grown weary of putting my face into foot flakes.
So I got some special creme de la Laura Lynn at the SwIngles and have been slathering that on my foot for a few weeks now. It’s working great, as is the spray my Sweet Lady got me for when I’m wearing sandals. When I got home this evening from an arduous day of keeping Asheville weird, however, I found myself wanting a hearty sock flossing. Alas, it was not to be. I was left with a brief and only vaguely refreshing wipe of my foot. Growing up can be so hard sometimes.