I got a compliment about my hair last night. I was told it’s the best haircut I’ve had in 20 years (literally). So while that makes me happy about my current haircut, I can’t help but think I looked crappy for 20 years. And just because it’s the best haircut I’ve had in 20 years, does that make it a good haircut? Or is it all relative and I still look shitty just ateenybitless shitty?
So while I’m busy feeling good about my hair, some guy in the cafeteria very pointedly checks out my feet. There is no doubt in my mind it was a purposeful look. He wanted to see what my piggy toes were all about, and I could not have felt more self conscious. Even if he did it because he’s into feet [strong possibility] what if he’s a foot modeling agent trying to find the next big thing in the foot modeling world? My feet aren’t great. My shoes, wedges, are built more for comfort than beauty [they are Clarks, by way of explanation.] So now I have to be upset that my feet weren’t attractive enough for the guy who has a foot thing to look back up at my face with a smile? I get to be two different levels of creeped out.
Luckily, I don’t know who he is; nor where he works or if he’s a very important person or one of “the rest of us”. That’s probably a good thing
Thank God nobody knows my underwear is about 5 years old.
You say “wee wee wee” all the way home, and how do I thank you? I jam you into shoes that kind of crush you a little big so that you hurt all morning but then eventually don’t hurt any more, which is awesome of you. Those really are nice shoes, I mean, it’s all worth it when you see how cute they are, even on my mongo feet. People will see you jammed into these hot little sandals and think “hey, she has got it going ON! I’ll bet she didn’t even buy those on sale!” but they would be wrong.
So thank you, little piggy toe. I’m sorry about that. Tomorrow I’ll treat you to some flip flops.
I have an issue with my currently available shoe selection. I put on navy blue pants this morning and came to the awful conclusion that I own no shoes to wear with navy blue pants.
Someone has to fix that situation. I assume that someone is me. Unless one of you is a shoe designer looking for someone to beta test a new design. Wait, do designers beta test things? It can’t be called that, right? I’m such a geek.
I also need a pair of tan sandals for work. I have some but they are too casual. Need something a tad fancier, and yet, way comfy. I think I could be trying to find something that meets those requirements until I retire.
I do no like my winter shoe selection. I’m quite unhappy with it, to be honest. I don’t have enough very comfortable shoes that are also stylish. It’s hard to keep your feet happy when you have to go to work somewhere with dress code. Granted, I’m not trapped in nylons and high heels (I’d quit) but still, they’d be happier if I was than with my personal take on business casual.
So yesterday, when it hit 50-ish, I was actually wondering to myself if it was time to take the sandals out of storage. 50! You know last fall, when it dropped to 50 for the first time, that was not even a consideration. I practically wrapped my feet in wool and animal skins to keep them warm. But in spring, why a 45 degree day feels like summer!
This morning it was snowing when I woke up. I can totally understand why winter is a depression-a-thon. The sandals will have to wait for another day. Certainly not Easter Sunday, which looks like it will have a high of 37 for the day. Ya. 37. Nuff said.
I snub my nose at the calendar. I don’t care if it’s October 19th (it’s the 19th, right?), I decided to wear sandals to work today. You see, I have a ton of cool sandals. I do not have a ton of cool shoes. I don’t even have a ton of non-cool shoes. I have nothing that I want to wear to work and that work wants me to wear, y’know?
So because the temperature was going to hit seventy today, I thought I’d wear sandals even though it was supposed to rain today. And I’d do it again. Because that’s the kind of person I am. That’s how I roll.
(I’m just killing time until a charity crumb apple pie finishes baking. A co-worker’s kids go to a school that does this fundraiser…they make hundreds of these pies and sell them, uncooked, for ten bucks each. I love me some apple pie, and I like to support charities. Everybody wins!)