The Universe Hates My Shoes; or, It's De-lovely to De-clutter

I've been plugging along, trying to keep afloat.

Some weeks, I've had everything mapped out and the stars were perfectly aligned for work. I haven't had to stay until 6 pm. I haven't had to go in at 5:30 am. I haven't spent late nights figuring out lesson plans.

Unfortunately, next week marks the 2nd week of a new marking period and the beginning of new teaching units for all four English classes (I know, what was I thinking??). So here we go again, more sleep deprivation (and freaky dreams) and more daydreams of escape (or vacation). . .

Daydreaming of escape brings me to the reality of here and now---I still have to get rid of more of our fine quality junk. The ultimate goal is to downsize, downsize, downsize. Tread lightly, leave more than we take, etc.

So I have made a fourth pass through closets. I've gone through files and shredded enough to make Ollie North proud. I've thrown out a ton of garbage---I do fill bad about that, since most is burned in a landfill here (and---lucky us!---our neighborhood is closest to it, so we do get to smell our very own garbage burning. Awesome).

For many people, one of the best things about living in GTMO is having eternal summer. (I will admit, though---I am totally ready for living somewhere with four seasons again. Heck, I'll even take two).

Eternal summer for me means I got rid of almost all of my spring, fall, and winter clothes. We managed to keep one large container of all of our good winter coats, scarves, sweaters, etc., but I have been ruthless in my attempts to pare down.

My tiny closet is still out of control. Shoes spill onto my floor. These are mostly shoes I brought with me; I have never bought nicer work/dress shoes since I got here, since they really don't carry any at our one and only store (or any I would wear).

I keep meaning to get rid of more shoes. The sad truth is, since I sprained my ankle badly last February, I can't wear heels because the pain is unbearable.  I don't want to face the fact that I may never wear heels again, so they sit, collecting dust, hanging out with my (seldom worn) fuzzy slippers; my completely worn out French Sole flats (holes and all--still my favorite shoes); my Doc Marten boots from the 90s (I'm bringing them back! I promise); seldom worn Chucks I can't part with; and a few single shoes that I SWEAR I will be reunited with their lost mates before we move.

I have decided that if I haven't worn something in 3 months, I'm getting rid of it. Therefore, I'm putting on clothes and shoes I haven't worn since I got here, and THIS happened last week:

Once or twice I blew out a flip flop ("stepped on a pop top"), but dang, my shoes just disintegrated within an hour of wearing them.

It's the second time it's happened since we've moved here---a pair of shoes that were perfectly fine in Texas fell completely apart when I put them on here. The soles just crumbled. It was bizarre. Is it the humidity? Is it because they probably endured extreme heat on the trip to GTMO? Or is the universe telling me that I don't need this many shoes in my life? Whatever the reason, as a result of the crumbling shoes, I ended up walking around barefooted for a large portion of the work day, until my lovely husband was able to kindly bring me a pair of (non blown-out) flip flops.

And what's yet another perk of island life, other than being able to wear flip-flops to your place of employment?

Nobody blinks an eye when you walk around barefooted (even if it's at work).