The strangest damn thing started happening to me at the beginning of this week. Every now and then, when I put my right foot down, the area of my foot between the ball and the heel feels wet. Like I'm stepping on a wet carpet or my foot has whizzed itself.
The first time it happened, it was in the study, where the washing machine flooded the floor and soaked through the rugs a few months ago. I felt a sudden, terrifying chill through my socked foot. Surprisingly, I did not hassle Katr with my subsequent freak out and opted to feel around the floor with my hands for awhile before deciding it was a false alarm.
"Huh," I thought, when the carpet seemed dry, "I guess my foot ...whizzed itself. Or maybe my sock got wet on the bath mat before. Huh."
Then yesterday, wearing different socks, it happened again. And today, again - phantom wet foot.
I started to get really nervous about this whole foot situation. What if phantom wet foot is like smelling burnt toast and I'm going to have a seizure? I checked with Dr. Google and learned a lot about seizure auras, trench foot and foot fetishes before surrendering to a gleeful hour of watching YouTube clips of Dr. Kerry Weaver's first, doomed lesbian romance on ER.
I forgot about my foot. Until I took the dog out for her evening stroll.
Are you ready to be TOTALLY CREEPED OUT?? Read on.
Tonight, just as I got on the elevator with the dog, I felt wet foot again. And then, there it was - a notice in the elevator that one of the building's sump pumps was malfunctioning and that all of the storage lockers on Parking Level 3 (where all our stuff is stored) were in danger of flooding.
I know. MY FOOT CAN TELL THE FUTURE.
I managed to save our artificial Christmas tree and Katr's big box of ornaments, so you can all exhale. Everything else down there is in Rubbermaid bins, just in case. So far, the storage area seems pretty dry - but if my wet foot is any indication, that place could go at any second.
Life with a prophetic foot can be a challenge. With great power comes great responsibility. How will I learn to read its signs? Should I get a wacky sidekick with a divining appendage of their own (not a penis - too easy - maybe an itchy ball). And, most importantly, when will my right foot get its own show??
Further bulletins as my foot warrants.
