Some moments, some times, when I slip off my shoes and feel the cool hardwood or the texture of carpet or the tickle of grass, it is perfection. It is almost as if all of my happiness receptors are in the soles of my feet and then the bliss rolls up to my soul.
No socks, no tights, no shoes, no mukluks, flip flops or heels. Just my feet and me, reveling in the freedom of being bare.....
That is, until I step on something sharp, usually something elusive, that I can't see, can't find, but am positive will step on again. The delight stops there!
I have developed a terrible habit of slipping my shoes off when I sit at my desk at work. I'm not actually aware of doing it, I'm just sitting at the desk, scanning and answering phones and suddenly I'm shoeless. Apparently, under my desk is where used staples go to die. Now, I can't prove it, exactly, because I can't see them, but ouch! I'm very aware of when bare foot and sharp staple collide.
That spiked sting of pain has not broken me of the habit. This is all to explain why someday soon, I'm going to found under the desk with a flashlight, pulling those visible to a bare foot only staples out of the carpet fibers!