My personal shame

Transferred from myspace. Originally posted April 11, 2007

It finally happened today. I don't know what went wrong. I was there, I knew what I wanted, knew what I needed, and yet, the passion had just...gone out of me. I could see it right in front of me, smell the sweet, pungent odor, and feel the warmth beneath my fingers, and yet, nothing. No excitement, no ripple of pleasure, no enthusiasm, no catch in my breath, no sigh of satisfaction. The horror of what was happening hit me with a force that nearly knocked me over. I tried so hard to work up some excitement, but I simply had no desire. I was defeated and bored. I wasn't interested in buying shoes! Tragic isn't it?
I had heard this could happen. Heard stories of friends who had had the same problem but never thought it could happen to me. The thought was positively laughable. I had done it so many times in the past without thinking it was almost second nature. I had practically turned it into a sport. Everyone who knows me knows that I'm a professional shoe shopper. Hell, if it were an Olympic sport, I would take the gold every time (though I'd have to stay out of the pros to keep my eligibility). My friends envy me my endurance and enthusiasm. Today though I couldn't even make a qualifying round. I wanted to cry, but couldn't muster the strength. I was deflated; spent. I had failed. I couldn't find any shoes I was even interested in. The ennui was all encompassing.
So now my shame is laid bare for all the world to see: for the first time in my memory, I couldn't muster up the enthusiasm to buy new shoes. I stood there surrounded by thousands of pairs of beautiful, shiny, jeweled, heeled, glittery shoes, and I might as well have been staring at row after row of Birkenstocks or worse Crocks. It was such a shock to my system that I actually had to sit down on one of those low uncomfortable little benches with the mirrors I've used so many times to admire a pair of 4" heeled strappy sandals hugging my feet, showing off my arches to perfection and making my calves look like they should be showcased in an art exhibit. Shoes can change your whole day, your whole outlook and on a few occasions, even your whole life (trust me, every woman can tell you about the shoes that changed her life), so how could I fail to find something to make my heart skip a beat? Perhaps because I was there for the sole purpose (no pun intended) of buying new gym shoes. I've put a couple of hundred miles on mine and really need new ones, but they're just so boring to buy. Yeah, sure, they try to make them fun and fancy by adding color or even a bit of lamé piping, but this does NOT make them exciting (shoe companies take note: even with colored piping and holographic panels, they are still gym shoes and therefore dull). I left the store with no purchases (a first for me), but vowed to be back another day, debit card in hand and feet ready to be well shod, even if it is only to run around the track. With God as my witness I shall never leave a shoe store empty handed again! (My apologies to Margaret Mitchell).