I thought my days were long before. Eight or nine hour days with rarely a chance to sit down or eat. Sounds heavenly about now.
Not that I’m complaining. I love my job. Managing this hotel is as fun and complex and challenging as I’d hoped it would be.
But I AM complaining. My days are now longer, and although I can make time to eat, by the 10th, or 11th, or even 12th hour, my feet are killing me. Finding the right shoes has been a feat. *ahem* And one I have not yet mastered. I’ve settled into a routine of stopping off at the shoe store on my way in, wearing the shoes at work, and then stopping off the next day to exchange them for another pair.
After two weeks, I have tried seemingly every shoe in the store, and my feet HURT. I’ve even tried on the ugly ones, desperate for anything that feels comfortable. Yet as soon as my feet realize I’m putting them in another shoe, they cringe and complain the whole time.
Now, I’ve worked in a hotel for over 5 years, and am used to standing all day. But walking the halls of a hotel almost continuously, and setting up meeting rooms, and preparing for our nightly happy hour, and schmoozing the guests, is WAY different than just standing.
So today, my Saturday, I drug my hubby to the shoe store for what I hoped would be the last time. I belabored over all the shoes I haven’t yet tried. I’d put one on and walk the many aisles before putting it away and trying another. A very friendly and patient sales lady noticed my frustration, and for the next hour, she brought me choices I had passed over for some reason or other. I explained to her my many foot issues, and she set to work finding the perfect pair.
By the time I’d settled on one, we had a slew of open boxes scattered about, and my hubby was asleep in the “hubby chair” at the front of the store.
I’m not claiming success, however. Not yet. The pair I chose was not in my size, but close enough to make me believe it would feel superb if it was just a half size larger.
Ginger kindly helped me order two different sizes, just in case. I walked out of the store with $150 less in my pocket, and no shoes.
But I pray, when they finally come in, that they’re as comfy as I’m hoping. And if so, I will order 10 more pair to ensure I never have to go through this again.
My hubby will gladly pay the bill.