And just like that, you move them to the frontlines. Ready for action.
A few days later it just happens to be that cold January day when you need to pair some great heels that are not too high or stelleto-ish (you might slip in the snow or on the ice) and have a closed toe (wouldn't want to get your feet wet when it's freezing outside!) with those black slacks and cardigan.
Ah ha! The forgotten pumps you just rediscovered. You slip them on as you run out the door and you think to yourself, these are so cute and look so great! Again, why did I forget about these little puppies?
Work is work and you are up and down and up and down from your desk to the copy room, to your desk, to the bathroom and back to your desk. Over and over and then...Noon! Lunch time, my friends. You jump to your feet, grab your coat and bag and head for the door. owe. Owe. OWE! What is going on?
And that is the precise moment when you suddenly remember why these stupid little shoes were clear in the back of the closet! They hurt your feet. They dig into the tops of your feet like a razorblade. They make your arches pound. Your heels ache. Seriously...these shoes suck!!!
You make it through lunch, even after you have to walk further than desired to your eating establishment. You smile. You wouldn't want anyone to think you were "one of those girls." You know the type – the girls that wear things just to look stylish. No way! You are NOT a ditsy blonde that is a victim to fashion!
You are so happy when you get back to your desk where you decide to not print anything you are working on until the next day and you are definitely regretting the three glasses of ice water you downed at lunch. You are not going to jeopardize your feet any further until you absolutely have to. That is in four more hours. You grimace, but press on. And then the bell strikes 5:00 p.m.! Tears almost flood your eyes you are so happy and grateful for this treacherous day to be over.
Hobble. Limp. Whimper. You finally make it to your car and you feel relief is truly in sight. You drive 10 miles and all you have to do next is get out of your car and walk into the house. Your feet are throbbing so bad you wonder if anyone would care if you just hung out in the car. Maybe you should call your husband and ask him if he's been wanting to give you a piggy-back ride ('cause I'm sure that is exactly what he's been wanting to do all day long...just waiting anxiously for your offer)?
Okay - okay. You debate your options and finally decide to just walk into the house yourself. Hobble. Limp. Whimper. Gasp! You think at this point you should just name your shoes Hitler, or Osama, or Satan....anything along those lines is how you feel about now.
And then, FINALLY, you walk through the door and rip off the ugly, black torture chambers you've been sentenced to walk in for the past 9 hours, and throw them on the ground!! You look around for someone. Anyone. For sure whoever just watched you barrel through the door is going to want to hear your shoe store. You just want some sympathy and a serious foot rub. Uh - no one's home! That stinks!! Oh well, you hang up your coat, pick up the aforementioned black items, walk to your bedroom, and place the items right back where you found them a few days before!
Okay, seriously, am I the only one that does that? If they hurt so bad get rid of them, right? Oh no, not me. I think, huh, maybe they won't hurt so badly next time. Maybe if I wear them with a skirt instead. Ya. That's it. I'll give them a rest and find them again in the Spring!
New Year’s Resolution: Give all "forgotten" shoes to D.I. or...better yet...throw them in the trash!! If you wear a size 5 1/2 and the shoes hurt your feet, chances are someone else with the same size is going to find discomfort in them as well.
As soon as I can walk again I am bound and determined to grab those black pumps (and the bright pink "cruise" sandals) and toss them once and for all!!
Here's to always having happy 10 (toes that is) in 2010!