Last night I was overwhelmed. Those damn worms. The burning of dinner while waiting for Rob to come home from work. Laundry. Dishes. Cat pee. Traffic. Worms. I look forward to a weekend without Worms.

As I got ready for work this morning, I sat on the floor to pick out a pair of shoes to wear. I really do have a sinful amount of footwear.

Four pairs of black boots - Combat boots I saved from my Army gear for hiking. Calf-high boots. Ankle high Bandolinos with a buckle. Lace-up granny boots in butter soft leather.

One pair cordovan brown granny boots.

Casual - two pairs keds, one white, one tan. Asic running shoes. Bass boaters (which is what I'm wearing now). Purple and white shower shoes aka zoris :-). Black and blue rubber sandals. Black and grey rubber slippers. (These last two are permanent outdoor residents, kept on hand for either my boys or for quick trips to the garage.)

Black - A pair of patent leather pumps. Bandolino black flats. Nine West penny loafers. Triple-strapped sandals. Jennifer Moore slides.

Brown shoes - Nine West pumps. Bandolino pumps. Nine West mules: one pair no-heel nude, the other high heeled cocoa. Jennifer Moore slides (the same style as the black ones - the infamous "who needs the same shoes in different colors?" pair). Enzo slides in cocoa. Bass slip-ons in nude.

Navy - Bandolino fabric slip-ons. Bandolino loafers. Enzo shimmering navy with pearl heel flats.

There's probably more in the closet. I have a bag of shoes I meant to take to Goodwill in the garage, too, which I'm not planning to break open in case I see something in there that I now want to retrieve.

When I was in grade school, I had two pairs of shoes: white tennis shoes as part of my school uniform and a pair of slippers for everything else. Occasionally, the bottoms of the tennis shoes would wear through and my socks would pook out from them. My mom bought shoe repair goop, so we'd cut out bits of cardboard to put inside shoe, then cover the bottoms of the shoes with black goop. I'd get one pair of shoes in September and another in January, and they'd have to last for their entire respective semesters whether they were worn out or grown out of or whatever.

In high school, I could fit my sister's shoes, so that extended the life of my own footwear. When my girlfriend Iris graduated from high school, she gave me her old Famolare's….remember those? They were what all the In Kids had. I couldn't afford them and made do with the knock-off's from Thom McAn's until I got Iris' shoes. The next year, my girlfriend Ruth graduated and she also handed me down her shoes. I'd had various jobs throughout high school and would buy my own shoes, always whatever was cheapest, usually from Woolworth's or something where you could buy sneakers for $2.50 a pair.

Up till as recently as two summers ago, I only had five pairs of shoes (heh, only), including my rubber slippers. Always bought on sale, usually at Ross or TJ Maxx. As I got more comfortable with my income, I had enough to buy new shoes at the Bon, which is where almost all of my shoes are now from. It felt so weird paying more than $20 for a pair of shoes. It still does, so I'm constantly scouring the clearance racks. Those evil people at the Bon have figured out my newfound footwear fetish and purposely redesigned their store so that I need to pass through the shoe department to drop off my payment envelope.

I think I'm making a break through, though. Yesterday, I dropped off my payment and didn't even pause on my way thru the shoes. See, now that I acknowledge my addiction, I am on the road to recovery. Hmm. Might need to get a pair of comfy shoes to travel on it, though.