The Problem with Shoes

Let’s talk realistically, here. Shoes are always a problem for me. Elena likes to take credit for getting me interested in shoes. I let her believe that’s the case, though truly, I’ve always liked shoes. I’ve just suppressed the liking because of the lack of feasibility. I have big feet. Always have. Size 11 I wear in most shoes. It’s ridiculous, really. I’m hardly six feet tall or anything.

So, shoes are a problem. They never fit quite right and just aren’t that comfortable–dress shoes at least. But, that’s what the world demands that I wear, at least to work.

Now, for the point.

This morning, I arrive at work and am walking up the stairs to the library when, suddenly, my left shoe fell off.

Fell. Off.

Of my foot.

No, I’m not kidding. In the middle of stepping, it fell off my foot.

Then, of course, it bounced down the flight to the landing. I set all my crap down (purse and lunch bucket) and scrambled back down the stairs to get my shoe before someone saw me in the stairwell with only one shoe.

And what the hell? I have BIG feet! Shoes do not fall off of my feet, not ever. I was completely astounded by this. So, I get the shoe back on, wiggle it around and it doesn’t feel particularly loose or anything. I continued my way into the upstairs hall. Then, I was walking down the hallway, toward the library, and thinking how weird this was, when, suddenly, my left ankle rolls and I fall to the ground in a giant heap.

No, not kidding.

I have no idea how it happened. I think maybe someone put a curse on my left shoe.

My ankle rolled and I fell, onto the floor. My purse fell and spilled, everywhere. My lunch bucket fell open and spilled, everywhere and I hit the ground. Hard. I feel lucky I didn’t hurt myself any worse, because my hands were full and I couldn’t catch myself. Fortunately, the WALL did catch me. (Ouch.)

I sat there for a second trying to figure out what the hell just happened. It was weirder than losing a shoe. Then I crawled (yes, crawled, like the true professional I am) around scooping my stuff back into its respective containers. Then I tried to stand. I could, but barely. I sprained my ankle. It hurts, alot.

I limped my way into the library, dropped my stuff in a pile on my desk and haven’t moved since. I’m trying to figure out if I can get through the whole day without having to get up…Of course, that doesn’t stop my swollen ankle from throbbing.

Is there a cure for klutzery? Is klutzery even a word? More like an affliction, if you’re asking me.

This sucks. Just sayin’.

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