I think it’s safe to say that we all have something about ourselves that we’re unhappy with, dissatisfied with; something (or some things) that we’d like to change.
These could be physical deformities, like natty cuticles, or behavioral deformities, like acute narcissism, selfishness or the inability to show compassion to another human being.
Lord knows I’m not immune to either physical or behavioral, although I like to think that I acknowledge my shortcomings, and if possible, seek to change that which is in my power to do so.
There is one thing that I have been unable to get a handle on, and unable to shake… until last night.
Of course I’m talking about my dry and cracked heels; fissures in my once delicate skin. Thank you for the oohs and ahs but it doesn’t hurt, really.
In all fairness to my heels, there’s been a huge improvement in the past few months. But then, just last week, things took a turn. I changed up my fitness routine, and I started jumping around–doing more plyometrics.
I’m no P.I. but I’ve deduced that pounding my full bodyweight on my feet is the culprit, and not genes as I had previously thought.
Enter Amope Pedi Perfect Electronic Foot File. Yes, that thing that’s advertised on television. I was always intrigued but I was also too lazy to drag my cracked heels two blocks to my local CVS to check it out… until yesterday.
Alcoholics say that hitting bottom is the moment when they decide to get help. My bottom was when I started to roll over in bed and my dry and cracked heels scratched and caught the sheets, and halting a smooth rollover.
I will not continue on like this, I thought. I’m better than this. I deserve to have heels smooth as a baby’s ass.
I thought the Amope was a gimmick. My mom told me about it months ago, singing it’s praises after she used it. I listened but thought, I don’t want to use something that my 70-year old mother uses.
While some women spend Saturday night submerged in a bath of essential oils, surrounded by Tubereuse and Freesia Diptyque candles set up along the edges of their tub, munching on bars of dark chocolate, and swallowing a bottle of Chianti while watching Girlfriends’ Guide to Divorce, I sanded my heels while watching Terror In Mumbai on CNN. Same, no?
As I sat on the toilet lid, with my foot hovering over the garbage pail, I marveled at how eerily similar this was to sanding the two by fours in high school shop class, that eventually became a bird house at the end of the semester. The Amope also sounded like a a vibrator… Hm, I wondered. It was a Saturday night after all.
As I filed, my dry skin went up in smoke, leaving my heels shiny and new.
Next Saturday I think I’ll try Amope’s Electronic Nail Care System. I never did solve the natty cuticle problem.