I now know why I don’t really wear heels anymore.  Because I’m a clumsy fat ass now.

I was coming home and walking up to the door of my house with my arms completely full from the mail, packages, purse, lunch bag and keys when I tripped over my own two feet and took a hard core plunge on my desert landscape yard.  Mail and packages flying everywhere in my yard with contents spilling out of my purse too.  Scrapes and mostly likely bruises showing up later, I’m fine.  But my damn shoe broke and I’m pissed about that.  It’s hard for me to find shoes that are comfortable and big enough for my Fred Flinstone feet as it is and when you find one of those magic pairs, you treasure them.  Broke.  Effing broke.  Me = pissed.


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