Problem: My Feet are Cold

My feet are cold and I can't knit socks fast enough to keep them warm. I may have to cave and go to Wal-Mart -- I loathe Wal-Mart, but it's the only thing going around here -- and get some machine-made socks. Damn. I love knitting my nice wool warmy warmy socks. I guess that's what I'll be doing more of this winter. That and working on the novel, apparently with cold feet.

I could wear shoes, I suppose, but I'm a barefoot girl, always have been. My mom used to buy me slippers every Christmas in the hope that I would take to wearing them. She tried every kind imaginable: Fluffy Dog slippers, boiled wool clog-slippers, grandma slippers, etc. She finally hit on something when she got me slipper-socks, the kind with the little grabby rubber treads on the bottom. Those I would wear. When I moved out here, though, all my slipper socks were so grubby that I chucked them all.

Slipper socks. In my old apartment in San Liberal, it got so cold in the apartment in the wintertime -- like 59 degrees in the mornings and after dark -- that I would have to wear multiple layers of clothing... or else have to turn on the gas heat and pay an arm and a leg with my utilities bill. I was such a cheapskate, figuring I'd rather suffer than pay. It only gets cold in San Liberal for about 3 months out of the year. Still. That's a $20 increase per month to pay for the gas heat, and I was poor as a churchmouse. So no heat for me.

And now, at the very least, my utilities are covered and I'm not living in an apartment whose walls are essentially all windows. (Windows with no view, I might add.) So maybe I won't be so cold after all.

But my feet, my poor feet, how they require a new pair of slipper socks!

Off to Wal-Mart. ::sigh::