RIP, Flip-Flops

It's typical me, rushing headlong into things even though I know I should stop and think.  I do neither and thus pay for it.

That's what happened on my first day of My Reverse Vacation.  With the folks gone, I have the run of the house, so I could bring all the shit I have in storage back home to ... uh, sort, store and/or throw away.  At least that's the plan.

I have a lot of shit in storage.  A lot.  And since it is storage, it's not really organized.  For an hour over lunchtime I climbed and picked through my unit, taking all the bags and boxes that have Entertainment Weeklys, newspapers and other papers that I planned on going through.

I was in the middle of the unit and wanted to get out.  Either I stepped into the slat of the pallet or the slight incline up into the unit because I stumbled on my way out.  That's when the right flip-flop gave way; the, uh, thingy that goes between your big toe and the index toe, that string that attaches to the flip-flop so your entire foot can walk with the flip-flop, broke.  It was coming loose for a while, but that trip was the final straw.  My flip-flop was just there, resting alongside my right foot because that string didn't keep my foot in it.  I limped that flip-flop home.

I knew I was going to do some serious lifting at storage today, so why didn't I just put my socks and shoes on?  I knew I should have, but I spent 20 minutes on the Internet as soon as I woke up instead of just going.  Inclement weather was coming, and I would have spent more time on the Internet if the sky didn't look like it was going to open up at any time.  That's when I yelled at myself for goofing off online and shot out the door, stopping only to put my flip-flops on.

I had them ever since I visited my sister out in L.A., oh, seven or eight years ago.  She took me to Third Street Promenade's Quiksilver shop.  She told me to buy them because they would make me look cool.  I don't know about cool, but I wore them because they were easy to slip on when I had to rush out the door, which is often. I did notice that the string thing was fraying and coming loose; with the hard work I wanted to do in the afternoon, those should have been signs not to wear them for this task.  Oops.