I thought wearing the solid shoes today would feel oppressive, or tight. It does not. I usually wear sandals and black socks, not as a fashion statement but because I started experiencing foot weirdness which I blamed on wearing heavy, tight boots all the time. 

Maybe that was to blame or maybe it was something else but most of those troubles seem to have gone away with the change to Teva sandals and thermal socks. Thermals are important because they let me wear sandals through the winter, but not on days like this. Rain. Not as much as threatened, though more is on the way. Barely anything coming down now. It’s the end of Ian, which concerned this ex-Floridian on account of family and house still standing down there. They dodged yet another bullet, unlike other parts of Florida. 

Thinking more about that woman I want to connect with next week. Are there really nice, calm, sane women found in bars? I don’t know how much she drinks, if it’s important to her. She’s thin so probably can’t take much, and I’m no fan of sloppy drunks. It’s some dudes’ dream to get a girl so drunk he can have his way with her lifeless body but not me. For me it’s an intellectual entanglement as much as a physical one. 

But the shoes. They oppress me not, though I wore thinner socks than usual. It’s important to me since I started feeling every particle of my body. Whatever that’s called, when you focus on the feelings of your digestive tract and blood flow. Being alive becomes an erotic adventure when every wisp of a breeze touches exposed flesh. A wafty breeze from the front of the building regularly blows up my shirt(s) and causes mild sexual arousal. 

The woman I look at too much is not here today.