Poor Shoe Cow...

Have I ever mentioned that every time I leave my favorite grocery store - you know, the really expensive one that carries tons of healthy, organic, hormone-free foods - I pass a truly lovely shoe boutique. Even though I know for a fact that this particular establishment does not and probably never will carry size 5's, I get this sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. It's like the feeling I imagine a poor, hungry cow might feel when he spies an ample, green field of grass. And he just can't make it over the fence. You see, there was a time when my grocery budget was only 50$ for all the Coca-Cola and Ramen noodles I ate. Now that I'm doing Body for Life and eating everything in site (everything healthy, that is), I find my grocery bill to be a bit more intimidating. This, of course, leaves no money for a poor shoe cow. I wonder if those grass-fed steaks I just bought at Whole Foods are size 5?