I felt pretty jazzed this morning as I skipped to my bus stop wearing my stained, worn, holey Toms. The soles are slowly disappearing from wandering all down the West Coast and back. The heels are a little folded and looser than they once were. Yet I had that feeling of success that I was going out without needing a hardcore tread to keep from slipping. I'm not even wearing socks.
I remember the last day I wore my Toms in November. It had snowed that night but I wasn't ready to let go yet. Then I had to cross the train tracks climb a gravelly hill out of a parking lot. Spoiler: I made it up without falling. Still, it was a little iffy a few moments and I knew it was time. I put my olive green shoes in the shoe bin and exchanged them for a pair of boots that made everyone ask me if I was taller.
After a solid weekend of lying in the sunshine and walking from one end of town to another wearing a tank top, my feet feeling claustrophobic and sweaty inside my leather boots, I decided to revisit the shoe bin. I can't get over how great it is to not have to hunt for two clean socks in the morning. Not being as tall is a little disappointing but it's worth it for the lightness my feet feel with every step.
I just hope it doesn't snow again.
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