There goes my jackbooted thug image
Due to the combined influences of a half-dollar-sized blister on the side of my left heel and the fact that the hot season has returned to Iowa City, I decided that it was time to break out the sandals. However, this clever plan was confounded by the fact that I do not own any sandals, so I had to go buy some.
Thus, after a mercifully brief shopping encounter, I am now the proud(?) owner of a pair of brown Birkenstocks, under the rationale that if I am going to own sandals, I should probably have sandals that will last me a while. They're ... different. I'm not used to sitting at my desk and feeling like I'm not actually wearing shoes, though that shouldn't be a surprise, given that I've almost exclusively worn boots for the last fifteen years or so. But they're pretty comfortable to walk in, apart from the fact that I feel like I'm wearing liberal camouflage.
Thus, after a mercifully brief shopping encounter, I am now the proud(?) owner of a pair of brown Birkenstocks, under the rationale that if I am going to own sandals, I should probably have sandals that will last me a while. They're ... different. I'm not used to sitting at my desk and feeling like I'm not actually wearing shoes, though that shouldn't be a surprise, given that I've almost exclusively worn boots for the last fifteen years or so. But they're pretty comfortable to walk in, apart from the fact that I feel like I'm wearing liberal camouflage.