my friend Jared came into work yesterday with this happily bursting question, "Do you notice anything different about me?"
i said, "You look taller."
after a few guesses from other people he said, "i got shoe inserts!" which, ahem, technically means i was right. his pronouncement was instantly met with envy and awe.
my co-workers and i stand for over 8 hours a day. not everyday mind you, but really when you peek in our shoes, they should all be lined with alien-looking gel pads. the percentage that are? 4% i.e. Jared's. (that is not a scientifically calculated number, but it feels right).
when i got home last night my feet were throbbing. i like to think it's my body's version of being a cry-baby. jared got shoe inserts, we want them! they're still sore today. could be because my work shoes are about to disintegrate. any day now i'm waiting for those little work Crocs to start crying. we're not meant to take this abuse.
i didn't snap a photo of the work shoes, but here are my other most-worn VIPs (none of which, mind you, i intend to toss).
|these suckers i actually had resoled last year. the nails are starting to pop through.|
|these are what my work Crocs are starting to look like.|
|um, no comment. except maybe, ew.|
so i think on my way in today, i'm going to invest in some inserts (notice the "i think).
after all, lately, i'm all about doing things that are good for the sole, erm, soul.