Shoe Shopping vs. Playing with Perfume

My newly re-arranged perfume cabinet

Do you ever use 'perfume play' as an excuse to procrastinate?

All last week, I swore I would go shopping on Saturday because my shoe selection is hideous.  Hyperbole is a typical part of seasonal wardrobe changes.

In a charitable frenzy last Spring, I gave away most of my fall/winter shoes and boots, assuring myself that I would have plenty of time to replace them before it was time to put the sandals away.  

Apparently, I was in such an altered state of give-away euphoria that I even imagined how much fun this shopping would be.

Wine must have been involved.

Last weekend, Baby sis (my personal shopping consultant) offered her suggestions for the best shoe selections to be found.  I was armed with information and ready to go, motivated by a dwindling choice of work shoes.

I meant to go.  Of course, I meant to.  I said I would go, and I Almost Went. 

In my defense (shut up, Inner Critic), B-man made it clear that he wanted to catch a football game on TV Saturday so I would be on my own shopping.

We know that's a bad, bad idea.

After working through multiple images of myself wandering shoe stores all day, only to return with nothing, I started feeling clammy and sick to my stomach.  These symptoms could mean only one thing.

I was coming down with a case of the fuck-its.

To cheer myself up and regain my peppiness, I watched two recorded episodes of In Treatment.  

It seemed like a good idea at the time.

Still feeling kind of 'lurpy,' I meandered into the Smellie Room to check on my perfume.  Suddenly, re-arranging my perfume cabinet seemed critically important and soon took first priority in the triage of my day.

My peppy was finally coming back.

Some people cook for relaxation, others read or listen to music or do yoga.

I play with perfume.  Smelling it, arranging it and trying out new layering experiments all soothe my mind and my soul.

It's Monday, however, and my shoes are still hideous.

Photo my own