I had lots of ideas on how to start this post. All of which were wiped away when I saw this photo, of me looking at my feet in Barcelona airport. It has to be the scariest photo I have ever seen. Certainly the scariest one I've ever taken. And yes, that is my belly. And my feet. And, to answer the question I know you'll have, yes, I did have to lean over slightly in order to actually get my feet in the shot.
The funniest thing is that this was to be a post about my cool new shoes. Along with lots of lovely tourism, one notable event from my week in Barcelona was that I became noticeably bigger during the week, from Tuesday to Thursday. This has apparently pushed me over some mythical edge, and given me a slightly different relationship with my feet. Actually, with anything on the ground, like, for example, my feet when I am standing up. Leaning over is no longer my friend. Now, when I drop something, I'll be doing my best to just leave it where it is (or to get some nice person nearby to pick it up for me).
Which means that it was possibly not the best idea to take only lace-up shoes with me. Which I did. Lace-up shoes which finally started to fall apart on Thursday, in a way which was quite painful (imagine walking on a bar of metal, digging into your already sore left foot more and more with each step, and you'll have an idea of what I mean). So Friday became shoe-shopping day. And did I ever find cool shoes. You can't see much of them here (I couldn't lean over any more and still have only bump and shoes in the photo), but they're leather high tops with several buckled strips of spikes and stuff. Not laced, but a zip up the side, which is not ideal either, but much better than lacing.
But really, it's the bump that really wants to be written about. Not the shoes, not even that they're a larger size than I normally take because I believe my feet have finally started swelling. Or that they are possibly the most expensive shoes I have ever bought. It's only slightly more relevant to write about how I had to take them off after security in Zurich, and then, not having anywhere to sit down (we just made it to our connection as it was), was unable to put them back on, and so just carried them onto the next flight. Or how I attempted to put them on before the plane landed in Copenhagen, and couldn't maneuver enough, what with the lack of room between me and the seat in front of me, to actually put them on there either.
Nope, it's all about how scary it is that my abdominal region has morphed, seemingly overnight into some sort of county fair prize-winning watermelon. Compared to that, there is nothing else to write about. Even scarier when I consider that there are still about 8 weeks left in which to grow even more alarmingly big.