Socks, Schmocks and other tales of Hobology.

I don't wear a lot of socks. In fact, as a child, I spent a lot of time barefoot. My feet were constantly dirty. The soles were black as tar and it took a lot of elbow grease to clean them. It makes me cringe to think of exactly how gross they were.



There, that is a picture I randomly chose from the Internet. Let me give you a little piece of advice, don't Google "dirty feet" unless you are prepared for some perversion.

Eventually I started to wear socks and shoes like a civilized person. And aside from a terrible obsession of wearing flip-flops daily in college, and that brief love affair with Crocs, I've been consistently wearing proper shoes for several years now.




I'm not embarrassed to admit I used to wear Crocs. Famous people wear Crocs. Jack Nicholson and Rosie O'Donnell to name a few.

Point, counterpoint.

I will tell you this, I stopped wearing Crocs when someone once offered me $50 to lick my dirty feet.

Shoes and I have a complicated relationship. I'm known to hike in ballet flats.

On Sunday I went to a gathering at an old co-worker's house. As soon as I walked in the door, her husband asked me to take off my shoes.

Of course I wasn't wearing socks.

I had brief flashes of being the only person there with no socks on. And remember that episode of Sex and the City where Carrie's heels were stolen from a party when she had to leave them at the door? Granted, those were Jimmy Choo and mine are hipster flats with holes in the heels. Plus, I wear a size 11, unless a dude wants them, I think I'm pretty safe.

Lucky for me, there are other hobos that worked at Borders.

The party was fun, it was great to see people again, even thought it has been just a week since the store closed.So many funny little things happened at the party that it reminded me exactly why I loved working at Borders with a quirky staff.

Today is Monday and the first day I actually feel unemployed. To deal, I've been laying on my couch all day. And it is not a very comfortable couch.




Yes, that is me in my Snuggie.

Here is a timeline of my slide into depression.

Monday - Last day of sales at the store. Sad, but a busy day.

Tuesday - Last day of going to the store, cleaning and chatting all day long. Sad, but a busy day.

Wednesday - a normal day off for me and though I did apply for unemployment, I also kept busy seeing friends and going for walks.

Thursday - also a normal day off for me. Also filled with going places, seeing friends and what not.

Friday - My birthday! chock full of birthday fun! No time to be sad or worried about unemployment.

Saturday - After going to bed at 4am, I slept in. By the time I woke up and oriented myself, it was time to go to the PSU Vikings football game.

Sunday - I saw all my coworkers. Things were great! I went to a friends to watch the Emmys. I got home and did some job placement tests until 2am, one of which involved two hours of math problems. Math! No, I do not remember the formula for the volume of a cylinder. No, I do not know how to divide and multiply compound fractions. God damn it!

Monday - today. I woke up with a math hangover. I had no place to be. My phone didn't work. My apartment is a hoarder's paradise.  My roommate demanded I clean.

It seemed like a good idea to lay around watching Arrested Development.

But then I talked to my dad, today is his birthday.

Every time I talk to my parents, they say encouraging things. They say I love you.

And I think about how industrious they are and how hard they work and it gives me hope.

I've suddenly been enticed to head over to the M-K household, so I'm about to scrape myself off this ugly couch and head into the abyss.

And no, I did not take that $50 bucks.