Even if I'm doing a night out, I will gauge my footwear by how much walking/dancing I'm considering, and how much I'm going to be drinking (it only takes 2 cocktails or 3 beers for my shoes to abandon my feet...or vice-versa). And I usually end up in dolled-up flip flops, or flats, or something undemanding.
I have bad feet. And limps aren't terribly sexy.
A lot of my reluctance to wear fancy shoes for any kind of active hanging out comes from my work wardrobe. I have to dress up 5 days a week! My toesies need a rest!
The Boss got after me this week for my wardrobe. Which, according to me, is pretty damn nice.
But he wants me to dress more feminine, and I am not allowed to wear polos (I wore a Ralph Lauren polo twice--with my Tiffany's necklace--on casual Fridays! With dress pants and heels!).
So to show him just how lovely and demure I can be,
I went shopping yesterday and am today wearing a coral pink skirt with flower appliques, a sweet little beige front-tie ribbon sweater, my pearls, nylons, and beige heels. I look like a damn lady.
And so (I swear to God he does this on purpose) he chooses today to send me on a hike.
I didn't know it was a hike at the time, and he forbade me from using my car (all part of his evil plan to make me thinner). He asked me to take a book "next door" for him. I went next door, realized it was the wrong building, and kept walking. And walking. And walking.
When I found the correct "next door" (which it most certainly WAS NOT), I tried to take a shortcut. But I was squashed in this attempt, which resulted in me walking 3 times as long (this place was a maze, I tell you!).
I dropped off the book, and tried to take a sneaky shortcut back, and would have made it if not for the aforementioned beautiful pink skirt, which prevented me from going through a thigh-high hedge.
Stupid skirt.
Someone in an office was watching me through the window, taking off my shoes and hiking up my skirt in order to cut through some shrubs! I bet I was a sight.
So I ended up walking down the sidewalk in my heels again, which are typically comfortable, when I am not required to walk a mile them. And people were whizzing by me on Foothill Drive and honking at me.
Who sees a woman in a sweet little work outfit going for a hike in heels and HONKS?!?!
Nutters, that's who.
Thank Baby Jesus The Boss is flying to his beach house in Cali tomorrow, so I can have a few days of relief (though he still makes bizarre, demanding phone calls several times a day).
Also, our receptionist is on a vacation herself, which means I am doing her job on top of my own.
There are not enough hours in the day. And the constant dashing back and forth means more foot aches.
And me sneaking Diet Cokes out of the mini-fridge under her desk.
Well, it's quittin' time. But before I depart (I faintly hear a glass of Pinot Noir calling my name), today's image:
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