Saturday, September 02, 2006

The Day I Parted With My Kick-Ass 200-dollar Black Boots

Nine West, I hate you. Why make ever-so-fragile high heeled black boots that cost a bomb and fool suckers like yours truly into investing in such crap?

It took two winters, a hundred plus dollars per winter, not to mention the aching feet and the callouses. Was it all worth it? I don't think so.

I loved you, my Nine West Black Boots, and parting was indeed sorrowful, sans sweetness. I could have kept you until the end of spring but I couldn't take your squeaking anymore. Next up, I think you will be causing me a fatal fall.

I hope you enjoy living in the bin until Tuesday night. Come Wednesday, you'll have a new home in the dumps.

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I've got the fever! I did last night. Had to chuck a sickie two weeks into my new job. Classic.

The weakling that I am. I do not think I am made for such full-time jobs. A test of patience for the time being, perhaps? Here forth is a life lesson I keep failing to learn.

Deep breath. February, can't you come any sooner?

I love you, Adobe Premiere 7.0. Fujitsu, please hang in there. I cannot yet afford an iMac so you can't retire just yet.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

I too have boots that now live in the dump. I don't know if they are still together. I may now be shorter, but my toes are separate.

Ivannah said...

:) Just not worth killing your feet for some HOT but totally uncomfy pair of footwear.