Let’s see, where did we leave off last time? Ah yes. I bought boots as an act of defiance against my stupid toe, stupid toe rebelled by getting worse, I wore the boots anyway, stupid toe rebelled by getting worse again, I gave up on the boots and wore my Birkenstocks while running my first tutorials, and then happily discovered that I could count this as a defeating-of-the-toe because so many of you deemed my stocks-n-socks combination a winner.
Thanks for that, friends. It really helped me feel brighter.
Of course, this wasn’t a true triumph as I still had to deal with the fact that the toe was worse. So I went back to the doctor’s surgery (I am absolutely putting my nurse’s kids through university), they did things, they gave me antibiotics, I went back five days later, they did things, and then they decreed that my woollen socks-n-stocks weren’t up to par.
Apparently, I needed Ugg boots. This was a traumatising moment for me, because one of my self-proclaimed duties whilst living in the US was informing all Americans I encountered that Uggs Are Not For Public Viewing, and that their idealising of Uggs as expensive status-symbols was laughable.
And now, erm. Yep.
I do not want to think about how much these Uggs cost. My mother told me to suck it up by thinking of them as the equivalent of several visits to the doctor, but I prefer to think of them as more than a week’s tutoring pay, or forty billion fancy chocolates. And by “prefer”, I mean “cry myself to sleep at night”.
They darn well better do their job. Just sayin’.