What was taking me so long?

I finally got a new pair of black shoes last night. One of those amazingly quick and easy shopping endeavours. The goal was black shoes for work with a side order of Chick-fil-A. Of course the nuggest came first, and then Lisa and I sought out the Journeys, only to realize that I mixed up which mall it was in. That left me a tad disappointed, but Lisa would not give up and suggested that we check out Macy’s. I went along, although I didn’t have much hope.

After searching through many pairs of dress shoes, I finally decided to try on a pair of Timberlands. Not exactly what I wanted, but they looked different. Unfortunately, they did not have them in the size of my abnormally large feet. Ugh. They did, however, have a pair of Rockports around my size in black leather. The floor model was only displayed in brown nubuck, so I never would have guessed – well, if I had any patience for dealing with sales people I might have guessed. Lo and behold, they fit. It took me about 15 seconds to make a decision, and away we went. The right one is feeling a little tight (like a said, I got big uns!), but otherwise I’m satisfied. So the real question remains, what the hell took me so long?

I realized a month or so ago that my black shoes were in shoddy disarray. All around the ankle was thoroughly worn through and there had been a hole in the heel for who knows how long. But as its typical, I put off an easy errand because I’m such a stubborn ass. Just ask Lisa about what she has to go through to get me to the barber’s. And it’s not like I don’t want my hair short. I just hate making the effort. And when it’s all done, I’m happy that I look better and wonder what took me so long.

It goes that way with other things, too. The other day we got our EZ Passes in the mail. I finally signed back up after 2 years without one. It’s so much fun I want to drive up and down the Parkway aimlessly, but with great ease. I’ve been saying for a couple months that I was going to get them, but just never got around to it. I mean, you’ve got to double check the license plate number of the car and everything… how can you ever build up the motivation to accomplish that?

So now I sit here not having gone to the dentist in 2 years, the doctor in forever, and wearing 5 or 6 year old glasses wondering what it takes to actually make me move… The world may never know.