Achilles's High Heel

My plans for today didn't quite work out. Which, all things considered, really isn't a surprise.

I've just come back from the post office and grocery store. It was a lovely walk because it is a nice late winter day outside. I wore some nice high heel boots that I have been trying to break in, thinking that I've worn them a few times already and the short trip in them should be fine. But, wouldn't you know it, before I'm less then a block away, my heel is hurting. By the time I get home, I've got a nice sore on the back on my foot. I've got my jeans rolled up so they won't rub on it. So, there go my plans to walk down to Bloor West Village this afternoon and spend some time browsing in Chapters.

So, what's the point? Well, I bought those shoes because I liked them, but also because they are the fashionable thing right now. And, silly me, I would like to be just a little bit fashionable. But, when I wear them I don't feel like myself. I have a another pair of rather nice boots with heels, but they aren't high heel boots if you know what I mean. (The women probably do, while the men shake their heads.) I feel like me in those other boots. They are comfy, don't make a lot of noise, and don't make me very fashionable, but I like them. I think I need to stick with what is me, and not change myself to fit other people's ideas.

Now, I'm going to slip on some sandals and get my mail, and then maybe I will bandage up my heel, put on some running shoes and head out for an afternoon of being me.