I don't have any more car stories today. Actually, I do, but I think we're all getting tired of car stories. Today, I wish to complain about my shoes. When I say complain, it's in a softer sense. It's more of a puzzlement.
My poor feet have been taking a beating lately, in more ways than one. As the weather gets warmer, I am gradually breaking out the lighter shoes and sandals. They who had been my longtime friends are not necessarily so friendly at present. During a particularly warm day a couple of weeks ago, I ventured out in my Bebe wooden sandals, which are normally good for several miles/all day. I consider them mid-heels, and they are real leather. Not the nicest looking things, but they are comfortable. However, they ate holes in my feet in under two miles on their first journey of the season, severe enough that it's taken about three weeks for them to heal completely.
And then last night, I wore my Steve Madden beige colored pumps for several hours, including to choir rehearsal. Although they did not do any visible damage to my feet, I could feel a lot of pressure on the outsides of my feet around the bases of my little toes (left and right equally). The pain was limited to that, but that's bad enough. It's very distracting when you're trying to have a conversation with somebody, and all you can think about is that you want to get out of those shoes. That ain't no way to live.
So what gives? Why would these former friends turn on me like this? Do you suppose I'm pregnant?