Walking

Take Brisk walk down to Tribeca. Breezy, comfortable weather. Pop into Steven Alan. Try on shoes that I want badly but that don't fit and am aware that there is a 50-50 chance that I will buy the shoes anyway. This could be called optimism but am afraid that the impulse comes from a baser instinct. Miraculously, emerge from store without any other purchases. Look at feet of every person I pass on the way back to the office. Decide that shoes are very strange inventions and become a little creeped out. Hate own shoes.