I bought the shoes at Goodwill. Vintage Cole Haan tassel loafers. Practically new. At $6.00, they were too good to pass up. One problem, they pinched. I gave them to Cherry, but she’s thirteen. After a few months her feet grew, so she gave them back. I planned to wear them. Break them in. But whenever I tried, I remembered, “Oh yeah. Ouch.” The shoes seemed destined to become legal citizens of Purgatory. A country located geographically in the northeast quadrant of my closet.
It seems like I’m in limbo too, anticipating the hell out of the morning, waiting for who knows what. I check the sightline from the studio window. Two cats face off in the middle of the cul-de-sac. Frosty the Calico backs off from Garfield the Tabby. I log on to the laptop, grimace over blog stats, tap the @connect tab on twitter. No one acknowledges me. After a few minutes, every annoying thing is more annoying. The mental list I’m making shunts the misery index.
I search Pinterest for an excuse NOT to write. 22 Things You’re Doing Wrong. Easy Solutions for Life’s Annoying Problems. Sandwiched between The right way to peel a potato and The right way to make a PB&J, is #15, The right way to break in your shoes in under five minutes. At last, armed with fleece socks and a hairdryer, I solve the problem of the pinching loafers.
One down, twenty-one to go.
CRISPLY SPOKEN 