On the Subject of Heels
As I sit by the bonfire in my mind, I toss a few of the sticks into the fire. They're my problems, my stressors and my bad fortune. As they burn away, I watch the flames burst into different color.
She always meets me there. Today, in my mind, I wear the same clothes that I do in reality. For a moment, I think she'll scoff at my heels. But she doesn't, staying quiet as she takes the seat across the fire.
I wait about two minutes before saying, "Go on. I'm sure you want to."
"Want to what?"
"Comment on my ridiculous shoes. I'm sure they're unfit for battle and impractical but I like them." I glance down at the leather boots. I neglect to mention that without them, my dress pants would be trodden under foot.
"They are impractical for war. But they're not impractical for battle."
Again, she has me staring at her like one of Brighid's cows. She stares back, the unblinking beetle-eyes waiting for me to catch on. After another two minutes, she huffs, "Not all fights are armed with weapons. Some are armed with wit. Some with knowledge. Some with appearance. Your battles often have aspects of looking the role. What do you battle?"
"Students." She gives me that look. "Okay. Dumb students." I swear she thought of hitting me that time. I smile, feeling a bit more relaxed now. "Disease. We battle disease in the lab. Cancer, infectious disease, effects of drugs..."
"And what do you wear there?"
"Gloves, googles, lab coat, occasional face shield."
"Then that's your armor. What do you fight, specifically?"
"Ignorance. Misspent money. My fellow administrators for more money." I try to remember the last day that didn't involve some fight or emergency. It's hard to recall.
"Then those ridiculously impractical shoes are part of your battle gear." She paused, looking at them again. "I like the pointy ones better. They can do more damage."
----
I've been trying for days to come up with a good way of saying that I think the Morrigan appreciates heels. They really are my battle gear with the benefit of looking awesome. So why not relate the conversation?
That's not to say that she thinks they're the best. She still prefers me doing more physical work that being on the phone and fixing the problems of the school, but at least it's something. And it keeps me feeling good about me, empowered and in charge of myself and those that are served by my work.