This morning when I was about to leave for work I almost had a heart attack. I couldn't find my favorite Bally shoes. The past week the roads in our area are being resurfaced and that means strangers are free to walk up and down the street. We live in a private and guarded area so we never close our gates, one because we don't have those electric remote control gates and two, it rains almost everyday nowadays so I hate to get myself wet while opening the gates, which I will if we keep them closed.
Imagine me not finding my shoes. I shrieked and asked frantically to my husband if someone had entered into our compound and took my shoes from the shoe closet. Hubby was as scared as me, but more for fear of our house being trespassed more than anything else obviously. I frantically ran to the store room. Looked in the Bally boxes, no black heels in sight. I was already hyperventilating. Ran to the patio and raided the shoe closet there. Opened my gardener's storage/closet. Didn't find them there too. I was already close to tears and ready to call in sick. I ran back to the store inside the house and looked in EVERY box. And there they were, my Bally heels. Tucked safely in a Nine West box. What was I thinking keeping shoes astray from their rightful box?
Why did I react this way today? Could it be because dear Ruby wrote a tragic post of missing shoe collection and that I totally feel her pain? After the bad days at the office I wasn't prepared for more in my private life.
I keep forgetting things nowadays. I need a holiday. Or maybe a shrink.