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Mildred the asskicking peacockI was in the middle of writing a different, somewhat happy post when I had to run across the street to pick up kids after school. Putting on my running shoes, my heel was met with something hard, as it has been for the last few weeks now. Only this time, it was particularly uncomfortable. So I made a mental note to really LOOK at my shoes when I returned.

Now, I should disclose that while they are running shoes, I seldom, if ever, actually run in them. But I do wear them daily (except during flip flop season).  And yes, I’ll give you that they are not terribly chic or fancy (which is completely unlike me *smirk*) but they have been comfortable from the first time I slipped them on so I have remained faithful and true to them in return.

But times, they are a changing, and now, I am forced to conduct an intervention on myself because it’s time. I have to let these shoes go. I was hoping to make it until Spring, because who wants to go into winter wearing shiny new shoes (which I already own thanks to a sale at Costco a year or two ago and they reside in my closet, waiting for me to notice them – ha!)? And I am weak. If I don’t publicly ‘out’ myself on this one, I will keep wearing them because 1) they are already by the door, ready and waiting for me 2) they are familiar and broken in, and 3) we have history, and in this day of throw-away-everything, I’m fighting for that to mean something. I also know myself well enough to know that only the possibility of being on the receiving end of ‘those’ looks while I’m out running errands is the motivation I need to make the change. Yes, I do realize that the fact that the skin is being rubbed off my foot SHOULD be plenty motivation to pitch them, but it’s just not. My loyalty is stronger than physical pain (apparently).

Conclusion: I am left with no choice but to break up with you, shoes. And no, we will never, ever, ever get back together. It's been swell. Thanks for the memories.
Conclusion: I am left with no choice but to break up with you, shoes. And no, we will never, ever, ever get back together. It has been swell, but now you’re making my appendages bruised and swollen, so thanks for the memories. Adios, old friends.

Between Mildred’s no-nonsense stare and this public confession of weakness and avoidance, I feel confident that I’ll be able to retire (read: throw out) these shoes. Finally. But first I have to remove my friendship pin because I haven’t become completely callous in this process, just weepy and blue (and just a little bit excited to wear new shoes *grin*)

Now, back to your regularly programmed Thursday afternoon.

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