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Is it time to go home yet? I keep clicking these damn shoes, but nothing happens. . .

So, yesterday LCAP had a big meeting – our second annual Statewide Gathering. And, yes, it went very well. But, whenever the Boss and I are going to see other people (besides each other) I dress up. Yesterday that included a suit – a sassy charcoal gray number with a fitted jacket and slightly flared pant. And with my sassy charcoal gray number with the fitted jacket and slightly flared pant I wore a pair of totally cute, totally fierce (to steal an adjective coined by Stacy and Clinton), pointy toed, 4 inch heel, stiletto boots. They are so cute, they’re like – magical. The only drawback is they hurt within about 30 seconds of putting them on. Which is fine if you won’t be walking much or standing much, which I always seem to underestimate, since I was doing a whole lot of walking and standing yesterday. I even threw in a couple of sprints around the block to chase after wayward cabs that were supposed to be taking our attendees to the airport after the meeting. Needless to say, by the end of the day my feet hurt so badly I could barely walk. On the plus side, I could also barely feel them. When I got home I put my Uggs on and let my feet levitate off the coffee table for the remainder of the evening. Problem being that this morning, when I went to go take the dogs for a run, my feet still ached. Not just ached, but ACHED-ached. No way was I putting on running shoes. No way was I running. So, I put on my Crocs. Now, I happen to think that Crocs are probably the ugliest shoe ever made. I think they look stupid when people wear them, and I don’t understand why people buy them – hell, I don’t understand why I bought them. I have the flip-flop Croc which is only marginally better than the ‘normal’ Croc. All are hid-e-ous! Yet somehow also amazingly, embarrassingly, comfortable. So, the dogs and I get to Fiesta Island and we are tromping around the perimeter and my feet are feeling blessedly relaxed and surprisingly cushioned. And I think to myself, why didn’t I wear these yesterday? And I also think to myself, because they are ugly and hideous and they SO would not have matched my sassy charcoal gray number with the fitted jacket and slightly flared pant. So then I think to myself, why don’t the shoe makers ever take the sole of the hideous, yet somehow also amazingly, embarrassingly comfortable Croc and put it into the sole of the totally cute, totally fierce (to again steal an adjective coined by Stacy and Clinton), pointy toed, 4 inch heel, stiletto boots? I mean, that would be genius! Is it so hard? This week, when I take my boots into the cobbler to get the heel fixed from when I sprinted around the block chasing after the wayward cab, I’m going to ask him. Because maybe, just maybe, together he and I can revolutionize the women’s shoe world. . . .

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