I’m not much of a heel wearer. I don’t know why I never got into wearing high heels. I admire them on other people, but, am not the most confident when I wear them, nor do I find them comfortable. I blame this largely on my mother who never would allow my sister or me to get a pair of Candies. Because of being denied the opportunity to be extremely hip in 1980, I’m doomed for flats and stuff. Life is tough.
I decided this last week, after seeing co-worker Andrea’s cuter-than-cute wedges she was wearing that maybe I could pull off, not heels, but the wedge so I bought me some. I made it through Sunday without falling and felt ok in them.
Last night, in thinking of what I was going to wear today, I thought “Hey, I’ll wear my new, cuter-than-cute wedges.” Heck yeah, why not? I can wear wedges with the best of them.
Then, last night I dreamed I was at work (one of those dreams where it didn’t look like work, but, I knew it was work…somehow). There was this huge flight of stairs and in the dream, I took quite a tumble and the last thing I remember is one of our facility guys, Larry, carting me off to the hospital. Then, my plight of not dealing well with the flight of stairs and my wedges was the featured cover story on the front of our weekly, company wide newsletter…full story, complete with pictures of the whole thing.
I took this dream as God telling me “Do not wear the cuter-than-cute wedges.” I borrowed my daughter’s new cuter-than-cute flip-flops instead.