Gamiila (gamiila) wrote,

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"The Marquis de Sade don't have no boots like these"

Today was my last day of freedom - apart from having to keep to my second appointment with the company psychologist, I could pretty much decide for myself as to how I would spend it. As of tomorrow, I will no longer have that luxury, seeing as how I'll be returning to work 8 hours a day. And so I decided to indulge in a bit of shopping -- for boots. This rotten ankle's kept me from my favourite pastime for long enough, and besides, it's the sales. Unfortunately, I couldn't find any to make my heart skip a beat in the racks of marked down footwear in Utrecht's shoe shops; so I turned my back on those and let my covetous eye lead me where it wanted. I had almost decided in favour of a classic Italian riding boot in deep polished red leather when I suddenly perceived out of the corner of my eye something with a faint bluish sheen, which upon closer inspection turned out to be a pair of black, silver-brushed, muted Western style boots (when I say 'Western', it mostly refers to the decoration along the top: the pointy toes are far more elegant and so is the 2 1/2 inch heel). They're sitting here beside me now, and I can't wait to show them off to all my friends and relations, but I'm going to have to be patient a little while longer; my injured ankle isn't up to a 2 1/2 inch heel yet.

For my next appointment with the pychologist, I will need to write myself a brand new CV. I'm actually quite looking forward to doing this, and hope that when we go over it first thing in the New Year, she'll give me good feedback.
Tags: burn-out, footwear

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