Hobbled, yes. I walked to work today. About ten minutes in I realised that my left sock was wearing thin. Soon my heel was rubbing against the inside of my shoe and a blister was forming. I got to work by wrapping my ankle in a glove at a bus stop. I've never felt classier.
At work of course, I was free to kick off my boots and let my feet breathe the fine free air under my desk.
The journey home was a bit trickier. It's mostly uphill.
There are two McDonald's 'crew' sharing a post-shift romantic McFlurry. Their co-workers are teasing them about the newness (and presumably the strangeness) of the relationship.
"D'you wanna cup cake with a candle in it?" joked one as he sidled by.
"Ha ha!" said the girl, bashfully.
"Break her heart and I'll break your legs," warned a lady mopping the floor. She had massive arms, I'm not sure it was an idle threat, that.
I found that it was easier to walk downhill - something about the way the foot slid into the boot. Uphill was awful though. Going over the footbridge by the new IKEA was agony for the first half, then blessed relief for the second.
By the time I got to the end of my road (about an hour later) I had pretty much figured out what to do, and so for the final uphill stretch to my house, I decided I would simply walk backwards.
Now there's only so far you can walk backwards without pretending you're admiring the view or waiting for a friend to catch you up. That didn't occur to me though. Just when my feet were thanking me for being such a genius, I found myself sort of moonwalking past my neighbour (whom I hadn't seen) and noticed her giving me a look I could only classify as confounded bemusement. I quickly decided to give her a cheery wave, did a kind of Michael Jackson style spin and hobbled the rest of the way to my front door.
I am so cool.
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