Exotic yet ordinary

So, shopping? Not a big fan. I hate crowds and hovering sales clerks and dressing rooms and the fact that I'm thirty miles from the nearest shopping center, so I typically do what I can (tickle Maya, clean, purchase bulky exercise equipment) to avoid the whole shopping thing. But I needed shoes. In the absolute worst way. Ask any of my co-workers, because that is exactly the sort of thing they notice: clothing, hair, weight, condition of shoes. It is also exactly the sort of thing that they will nag you about eleventy times a day until you finally give in and arrange a trip in the middle of the work week to rid yourself of 'The Shoes', the ones you've worn day after day for the last two years and stubbornly continue to shuffle around in despite the exposed screw in the insole, enormous crack in the heel, and pained feet.




After walking aisle after aisle of narrow loafers, frayed shoes, boots, sandals, and every sort of pointy shoe with heels you could imagine, I finally found a pair I could live with. And then another. By 4:30, I had three pairs of shoes (somewhat impressive for a girl who, up until yesterday, only had two pairs of shoes - and even then, I only wore one pair with any frequency), two happy feet, and one less resolution to worry about. Now, if I could just make myself shop for new clothes...