Barefooted

As a child I would change out of shoes the moment I could. I would walk out to the car with shoes in hand and only put them on when we got to the destination. Back in the car I'd take them off again and this would repeat as we went about our errands. I think that drove my family crazy. Although this was back before the 'clickers' for cars so I could just lock my own door and catch up. I used to get chastised for going out into the garage barefoot. We had black widows and other spiders out there and it was my dad's shop so there'd be wood pieces and nails. Seriously in retrospect it was lucky I never got tetnus or a nasty spiderbite. The bottoms of my feet were regularly black from going out the front door barefoot... walking through the cacti barefoot... down the driveway and on the sidewalk barefoot. You get the picture, right. Barefoot is where it is at!

Fast forward to being an adult. I still hate shoes. I sit in my office barefoot when I can. The moment I get home I kick off my shoes. (Doubt it? There's a pile in the front hallway of the shoes I regularly wear which is the spot I kick them off). Hence, shoe buying is always a THING for me. I like comfortable shoes. I like simple shoes. I loathe buying shoes. Currently I'm looking for a black pair for work. I'm hoping to buy a simple versatile pair I can wear with socks and I'll probably end up with some ugly vaguely lesbian pair because that's what I always end up with when I take function over form. Part of me thinks I should wait and see what kind of job I get so I can tailor this shoe purchase to match that... as though this will be the only shoe purchase I make for a year (sadly, it probably will be. I buy shoes in fall for the coming winter and spring for the coming summer and I buy 2 pair max - one black and one brown. Sometimes I buy tennis shoes but not too often). Blech.