A sandals-related apology

My toe has healed well since my post about my toe injury. Ever since, I’ve been eager to get back in the ‘game’. Away with sandals and socks and in with high-heeled shoes. I have to admit that I have never been into heels at all. I’m a loafers chic and perhaps an occasional platform girl if no one I know is looking. But after the ordeal of wearing sandals in winter, I decided to go into the depth of my suitcase and get out my black high heels. I was flying to London for a meeting and I figured that this was a great start to my new lease on shoes.

... my high-heeled number

While on the endless boarding queue, I realized that I had made a huge mistake. My calves hurt like hell and my toe was reopening at the seams.

Fortunately, I was alone on my row on the plane so I did the unthinkable and took off my shoes. Pure bliss, I tell you- to the extent that I fell asleep, overcome by the comfort of breathing feet. The landing announcement came as an irritation; I had to wear my shoes again. I did so and got off the plane. One. Step. At. A. Time. I walked through the airport and stopped at the cash machine. As I waited on yet another queue, I began to count in my head to deflect my mind from the pain that I could feel escalating to agony. The counting technique works for stomach aches too by the way. As I got to 46, the lady in front of me was now using the machine. I shifted my gaze to the woman in the Travelex booth. I tried to make out what she was saying, her gestures were confusing. I wondered if she was singing. I couldn’t see any earphones in her ear and no loud music was coming from the booth. ‘Oh dear, she must be talking to herself,’ I concluded.  Her legs were hulled up on the table. She had no shoes on. ‘That’s the life,’ I found myself thinking. My thoughts were followed by a rude reminder of the anguish in my shoes. I wondered how some women did it. How could they wear sky-high shoes all day? I must be missing a trick.

Luxury shoes candid @ Kurt Geiger store in Can...

How can anyone climb this high??


I finally cashed my money and limped to the taxi stand. I must have cut in front of a couple who were there before me but when I returned their accusing look with a serial killer look, they looked away. In the taxi, I started to reminisce about my sandals-wearing days. Those were the days. Feet breathing, free living. I missed my sandals. I smiled at the thought of those white socks and the look on mothers’ faces at school pick up. Give me sandals and I promise never to complain about what people think again.

The good ol' days of Sandals

Once in my hotel room, I threw those devils off and got in the bath, patting my feet as I let the hot water soothe them. Now, I’m grateful for all the sandals I have and I may gather them round when I get home. This calls for a group apology.

Storytelling in pictures- Calming Mallorca and the Invisible Man

I spent a vacation week in Mallorca (ma-yor-ca). 21 degree celsius, swimming pool 5 steps from my door, great Spanish cuisine, smiling Europeans… great time away for me! Here’s the story and you’ll be glad to know it means far less text from me. Enjoy!

An invisible man followed me as a reminder that thinking about work or studies was out of the question and to ensure that I tried to relax.

The waters were beautiful and calm so I said I would try…

Voices in my head took time to quiet down and fierce faces of skulls and men charged towards my fragile frame.

I could have sworn I was seeing things when the mud people moved but this kid obviously had similar suspicions as me…

Seeing my invisible chaperone watching over me must have been the trick that did it for me…

Now I’m relaxed and enjoying the tall heights of the watering cliffs and thinking of the possibilities in store for me.

Finally, I’m ready for home and a good meal- Aromas is the place to be.

Ciao! 🙂

Bonus post- The case of the missing novel manuscript

I mentioned in my Smile Generators that the idea of writing a novel makes me smile. Margaret, a published author and blogger said I needed to just write it. Well, my confessions have come back to haunt me.

When I was 13, I wrote about 10 to 12 pages of a novel. I can’t remember what it was about but I recall it was titled, ‘The Undone’. I’ve always been cheesy with titles.

This is my earliest memory of actually doing anything about my enormous burden to tell a story, a story that I think will explain the otherwise unexplainable, enable people walk my walk.

Imagine my surprise when my mother posted 32 pages of a book to me. I don’t remember writing it, it must have been my inner-self going off on a tangent, desperate to unload some of my deepest texts… I stared at the pieces of paper in disbelief. It was about my experience in a foreign school. I had recorded how people treated me, how I felt and my observations about other cultures. It was neatly written, a consistent handwriting as though I had written it all in one go with an aim and with an ending in mind. As I read through it, I felt the heat of tears come to my eyes. The story I was writing was true. I had tried to disguise the names but I remembered the scenes, some dating back to 1991. I couldn’t believe that I had captured these moments on paper. I glanced up at the top of the first paper- No title, just a date- 21 November 1995. I tried to remember what I was doing on that day, how I was feeling, where I got the energy and drive from. My memory is not as good as it used to be.

My DH observed me as I flipped through the papers frantically, alarmed at this 1995 discovery. I took a deep breath and looked up at him. He was smiling.

“I’m going to have to write this damn novel, aren’t I?”

He nodded and touched my left cheek then said, “Your mum certainly thought these pages were worth saving…” He left the sentence hanging.

Oh my God.

Lunch time football- not for the faint-hearted

I almost had a heart attack! The culprit? Football.

No, I wasn’t watching the game. I was playing football during my lunch break. A few guys at work play every Thursday and they were kind enough to extend an invite to me. UnFortunately, I have been looking for a way to increase my heart rate that didn’t include extreme sports to keep fitter. So I said ‘Yes’.

Source: Aha! Jokes, http://www.AhaJokes.com/

I ran around the pitch following what I hoped was the ball and kicked it (mostly missing and kicking air) in the direction that I prayed was the goal. My chest felt like it was going to explode. I must have blacked out but I vaguely remember reaching for my water bottle and thinking that this was the end of my life. Apparently, it was a 45-minute game but I can swear we were running like mice for days. The captain caught me looking at my wrist watch one time and shot me a dagger-look. I gave a final sigh of relief at the end of the game when the 9-4 score (we lost) was announced. I was later told that I scored a goal. I truly cannot remember that happening but who am I to refuse a pat on my very sore back? In any event, I have been particularly  happy since the game, thanks to the release of those desperately needed “happy” hormones that are now running free. It must be a rather high dose because I am thinking that I will play Thursday lunch time football again soon…..  After my breathless display of talent, surely, I should get another invite :). When I come to my senses, I’ll make a sensible  decision to stick with swimming and perhaps to the occasional treadmill…

Blogging Theme Review- Why ‘My Business Addiction’?

You may not have noticed but I think it is fair to say that it’s not just business that I’m addicted to. When I started this blog, the intention was to write about my MBA learning journey and  my take on the business world. Granted-I’ve done a little bit of that. But all in all, business is not such an addiction in itself but more of an aspiration that I’m trying to untangle out of my life, which is my other addiction.

In many ways, this blog has revealed that there’s more to me than I thought. I have written on humor, life, family, friendship as well as business. I’ve put my mind up here and overall I’m pleased with the results. It took a while to relax in order for me to move from a guarded tone to one that let my personality through, even at the risk of dredging up the ‘irrelevant’. So I’d say I’m achieving a significant portion of my initial objective: to record a learning journey. I’ve got to know fellow bloggers and I sincerely hope that they know a little about me too. There’s more to learn and I’m sure there are a lot of things I can do much better. I have time to do this and many more miles before I’m picture perfect, if ever being perfect becomes a real aspiration or worse – an addiction.

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