Putting on My Metaphorical Boogie Shoes

The memories of the horrible dream I had about Dear Husband the other night have finally started to fade.

Although the dream left me sad and shaken, the details were pretty mundane. My wise and insightful friend A asked me about the dream a few nights ago, and as I told her about it, I realized it was, well, stupid.

In the dream, I was bugging DH to take me to his new house to retrieve my shoes. He kept refusing. I finally realized that he was balking at taking me to his house because his girlfriend was there. I asked him if that was true, and he denied it.

See, I told you. Pretty damned dumb. But the sorrow I felt in the dream lingered with me all the next day, and traces of it remained for days afterward.

Instead of scoffing at my pedestrian nocturnal visions, A probed me gently about the details. What kind of shoes had I left at his house, she asked?

I realized that although I never saw them in the dream, I knew the answer. My scrotty blue-and-black running shoes, the ones that I've been meaning to replace for at least the past three months. The ones whose soles keep coming loose, only to be superglued back by my cheapass self.

Anyone who believes dreams contain meaningful symbolism can probably come up with an easy answer about what those dream shoes represented, unattainably squirreled away in DH's dream house with his dream girlfriend.

A suggested that visiting a shoe store in my waking life and getting some new sneaks might be the best thing I could do for myself right now.

I decided to take her advice. Interestingly, I had a symbolic $100 bill in my pocket with which to buy these symbolic new shoes. DH had reluctantly handed me a c-note that day as payment on the money he owes me.

I decided to get some new sneakers and consciously think during my nighttime jaunts about walking away from my loss and toward a less heartbreaking future.

At the shoe store, I miraculously found two different pairs of shoes that worked with my Fred Flintstone feet and weren't so ugly that they made me go blind. I never have choices about shoes - it's hard enough to find one pair that works. Which ones to buy?

I ended up buying both pairs. After all, you never know when you're going to need an extra pair of shoes.