I am out of sorts. As this absurd nine month parade of activity draws to a close (two more projects this week and a portfolio, then done), I am starting to notice everything that has been shaken up since last August. I’m tired, more scattered than usual, and feel like I’m watching my life from six feet over my own head.
So, with everything out of whack, and the exhaustion and the overload, I decided to do what any woman in her right mind would do: I went out this morning to drop some cash on the sexiest damn pair of shoes I could find.
Mostly, I am not a proponent of retail therapy. Mostly, I think it is stupid. But sometimes, you know what? Shoes.
There is a DSW not far from my house, and as I walked through the door, retail paralysis set in immediately. It had been so long since I was in one of those stores that I didn’t know what to do for a moment. Retail makes me weird, and that is a LOT of shoes. I wandered for a bit, listening in on other people’s conversations:
“I don’t know. Is this too much of a shoe shoe?”
“Yes.”
After just a few moments of strolling the aisles looking for the sexiest pair of (non-leather) shoes in the store, they appeared: black sandals with four inch heels, a little platform under the toes, and interesting little straps and buckles. I tried them on. Yep. Sexy.
Sexy and totally impractical. I wandered around the store some more, hugging the shoebox to my chest. (It was the last pair in my size.) There were full length mirrors upstairs, so I tried them on again, in front of the mirror. Still hot, even with my old jeans and a sweatshirt. Feet, YES. Legs, awesome. And the tallness! But where would I wear these? What kind of occasion would call for minimal standing and walking, while looking fabulously hot, especially from the legs down? Two possibilities: 1) a sitting convention at which all of my exes would be present, and 2) sex.
I put them back on the shelf and left.
It really seemed like I was going to buy them. Like I was going to say, “Heck with it, it’s forty bucks, and I’ve been feeling a little low and out of sorts, and it’s worth it to look that great, even if I never wear them out of the house!” But I didn’t. My practical side won out and I returned home with the checkbook unopened, ready to sit down and get started on my assignments for the week.
But, wait. I could go back tomorrow afternoon. Because sometimes, you know what? Shoes.
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