it's been a long week over here. a week where the chores of one day inevitably slide into the next day and the next and then the next.
my boots had a date with the cobbler last saturday. most everyone in my life was aware that i had a pair of boots and that they were in dire need of the cobbler. but somehow my boots didn't make it to the cobbler. it just didn't happen. and it just didn't happen for a full five more days. days in which i sat around pondering how desperately i needed to take those boots to the cobbler.
and yet i didn't take them. because this would involve walking a block and half in cold and/or rain/snow/ice/COLD. and God only knew how long it would take. it might take days. there might be permission slips and liability forms to sign. they might need to know everything that had ever happened to these boots. how did they get this way? what the hell happened to the heel taps? where the hell had i been wearing them? didn't i know better than to treat them like this? for shame!
thus, in my head, handing a single pair of boots over to the cobbler became the footwear equivalent of checking liz taylor into the ICU- a complicated, time-consuming ordeal fraught with condemnation and burdened with a very very tangled past.
in reality, it took five minutes. they will be ready in two days.
all of which proves the point that the things we put off forever and ever are always the easiest done.