Drunk shopping

So, I wasn't drunk in the truest sense. It was 2:30 in the morning, I couldn't sleep for the life of me, and I had made myself a whiskey sour. I wasn't intoxicated, just exhausted. That didn't stop me from going on line to look for expensive shoes.

Half the time, I don't wear shoes. And, when I do, they are usually Skecher mary janes or penny loafers or running shoes. Why in the hell would I consider buying a pair of Stuart Weitzman gray flannel flats that would match exactly one pair of pants in my closet? I like to work at home so that I don't even have to get dressed, much less wear horrifyingly expensive shoes. To add insult to injury, they're already out of style because they are gray flannel.

Money has been tight. I lost my job mid-November of last year (thanks a lot, heartless people, for letting me go right before the holidays) and didn't start a new full-time job until April 1. H (for Husband) and I are just now able to go to the grocery store without quibbling over which cereal he wants and which one has coupons. They are never one and the same, you know. It still would have been completely moronic to spend $200 on a pair of shoes that I would certainly never wear. Or wear once because they pinched my feet. Common sense prevailed and I didn't do it.

Moral of the story: stay off the internets if sleep is impossible. It's much more amusing to watch old, heavily edited episodes of Queer as Folk on Logo. Emmett would have bought the shoes.