extra.shoes.

I started my day by stepping in a giant pile of dog shit at 5:30am, before the sun was out, before my brain could comprehend things like, probably that part of the sidewalk shouldn’t have been squishy, before I should’ve been getting behind the wheel of a car.

But I had to get to the gym for the appointment with my trainer, so into the car I went. Then, as the smell of shit hit my nostrils, out of the car I went. And I tried to scrub that shoe, but nothing happened. So I took the shoe off and got back into the car. Because, I couldn’t be late. I have a very small window of opportunity to pretend like I give a shit about my health.

So I went, and then spent ten more minutes trying to clean my shoe when I got there. Most of it came off, except for the little particles of fecal matter that had made its way into those tiny, narrow, criss-crossy lines that serve no purpose whatsoever. Like, seriously. What do they do? What is their function? Whose bright idea was it to put these little striations all over the bottom of shoes? I’d like to see the science behind this.

Anyway, I was going to write some kind of metaphorically significant connection to the rest of my day and my shitty shoes, but I’ve been up too long and I’m tired. So this is your moral of the day: Keep an extra pair of shoes in your car.

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