Friday, September 30, 2005

The Agony and the Vanity

My white cotton socks have a half-dollar size spot of blood soaked into it.

I knew I shouldn't have worn those shoes to school.

Even before I put them on, I reminded myself of the pain the notorious pair gave me yesterday. But they made me look sooo good.

The minute I stepped out the door, I started to feel the painful scuffing on the back of my left heel. Should I go home and change?

But I was 5 minutes late already. And my apartment is 3 flights of stairs above. And these shoes make me look soooo good.

By the time I was halfway to class, the pain made me start to hallucinate. Stupid, desperate thoughts filled my mind. How can I stop this pain? Maybe I could gather the fallen leaves and stuff them into my shoe. Maybe I could stuff my white sweater into my shoe. Maybe I could stuff my pants into my shoe (so much for looking good).

When I was 75% of the way there, I actually stopped and tried to stuff my pants into my shoe. But I was pressed for time and couldn't make it happen properly.

I half limped/halfed hopped on my one good foot to class. Sat down, checked my heel, and gasped at the price I pay for vanity.

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