Tuesday, December 02, 2003
My first day as a financial advisory services intern was thoroughly marred by bouts of sharp pain from below. It sounds exaggerated but the stinging pain hurts so much at times it gives me a tingling sensation, reverberating from feet up, and no I'm not trying to be dramatically poetic. It's unfair that a pair of deceptively-harmless three-inch heels is inflicting this much torture in sore feet and blisters, especially when they had cost me so much. I'd hesitated buying them but finally relented just because they had looked nice on me, the only pair that had, after days of shopping for those perfect corporate heels. I couldn't wait to sit all the time, even standing hurts. Throughout the day, pain rings in my mind; every move a consideration of units of pain involved. I figure my threshold for pain is high in comparison to most girls yet I was almost limping pathetically towards end of the day. I do not look forward to tomorrow's enriching business day when every step is throbbing soreness or want to admit that I have wasted good money on something superficially attractive. There is a price to pay for vanity and I don't want it to be deformed feet, bunions or calluses.
