Mourning.

Last night, I stepped out of my car and my flip flop broke.

My bronze Reefs... my favorites. The ones that they don't make anymore. The ones I wear almost everyday from April to October.

I smell sabotage. Or something equally foul.

I know two friends that will be happy to read this: one that hates feet in general and would like them to be covered, and one that hates that women wear flip flops to work.

I know it's time to upgrade. I know I need to move to a more seasonally appropriate shoe, and I even know that those flops probably contributed significantly to my plantar fasciitis two years ago, but I'm still upset, still sad.

Very, very sad. RIP dear flops. RIP.