You know when you plan what you’re going to wear the night before so that you don’t have wardrobe-related meltdown in the morning and then when the morning comes, you basically just force the planned outfit to work because otherwise you’re going to have a wardrobe-related meltdown or just be really late for work?
Cool. So I planned what I was going to wear yesterday morning so that I wouldn’t have to think about it, and then when the morning came, the outfit looked good, except I didn’t have any shoes to really “match” it.
But I wasn’t about to back down from the plan. I didn’t have time to sift through my drawers and closet and figure something else out. I needed to make this outfit work. So I dug out a pair of cute, sensible black wedges that looked totally great with what I was wearing.
Just one minor issue: they felt very roomy.
It’s weird, when you lose weight, you don’t really think about your feet, but I’ve ended up having to get rid of a lot of shoes that have gotten way too big for me. I guess I missed these ones. To say my feet were swimming in them is an understatement.
“No problem!” I told myself, “I’m gonna TCB today! I’m gonna stop in at the drugstore before work – fuck, I’m productive – and buy some insoles. Then these shoes will fit perfectly!”
I know what you’re thinking. Errands before work? Amazing. Who am I, right? Ridiculous. Gold star.
I popped into the drugstore and bought some insoles. I put them in while I was sitting in my car. They felt nice and squishy.
Fab. Ready to TCB.
But when I got to work, I had to get out of my car and actually walk. Which is when the problems started.
The insoles didn’t help at all. On the contrary, they basically just made my feet that much closer to falling out of my shoes with every single step I took. For the entirety of my five-minute walk from the parkade to my desk, I was literally tripping over my shoes and stopping every few steps to try to coax my feet to stay inside them. I was the girl I love to scorn when I’m people watching: the girl who can’t walk in her own damn shoes.
“Don’t wear shoes you can’t walk in, stupid!” I like to think when I see girls cringing and stumbling in ultra-high heels.*
I got to my desk and ripped out the insoles. Good for nothing so-and-sos.
And of course, yesterday turned into a day I did even more walking around on campus than usual. Of course.
I cannot remember the last time I’ve had so many blisters on my feet.
So I learned a couple things yesterday:
(A) Wearing shoes that are too big is just as (if not more) painful as wearing shoes that are too small.
(B) Don’t make fun of girls who can’t walk in their shoes because sometimes you can’t walk in your shoes either.**
*If you can rock them and walk them, good for you. You are sexy.
**I can’t promise I’m always going to follow through with that. Because sometimes it’s just like, “Come on, really?!“