It's getting warm, and I'm starting to feel like I might be able to live. I can't survive winters in bitter cold north. I didn't miss seasons when I lived day after beautifully warm day in Rwanda. Never did I miss seasons.
At lunch, my quasi-internship supervisor and I got lunch and sat in a little bitty park without coats. I squinted into the sun and got a tiny sunburn on my cheeks and arms. A baby in a yellow sweatshirt toddled past with his daddy chasing him. A homeless woman sat with a boombox blaring music. My soda got hot.
I was wearing my new red shoes. I'm starting to understand why people are into shoes. Last summer at my job in Liberia, a female colleague about my age (isn't this funny? it used to be that everyone was older than me; now they could actually be younger) pulled me aside and said, "I just want to tell you that the girls are making fun of your shoes. They say you wear the same ones every day." Okay, I wore leather beaded sandals made in Kenya every single day. But I had no money last school year and I had to conserve space on the way to Liberia because I had just had wrist surgery and couldn't carry too much in the way of luggage. Plus it's hot in Liberia! Why can't I wear sandals?
Anyway, I started buying better shoes for my next foray into Africa and/or my next job, because I don't want to humiliate myself again. It seems I'm supposed to be an adult now, but as far as the shoes go, I don't mind. I like the new shoes. I only buy flats, because I hate being extra super tall. I'm tall enough, I think. But these red flats make me smile.
T-minus three weeks to the J.D.
At lunch, my quasi-internship supervisor and I got lunch and sat in a little bitty park without coats. I squinted into the sun and got a tiny sunburn on my cheeks and arms. A baby in a yellow sweatshirt toddled past with his daddy chasing him. A homeless woman sat with a boombox blaring music. My soda got hot.
I was wearing my new red shoes. I'm starting to understand why people are into shoes. Last summer at my job in Liberia, a female colleague about my age (isn't this funny? it used to be that everyone was older than me; now they could actually be younger) pulled me aside and said, "I just want to tell you that the girls are making fun of your shoes. They say you wear the same ones every day." Okay, I wore leather beaded sandals made in Kenya every single day. But I had no money last school year and I had to conserve space on the way to Liberia because I had just had wrist surgery and couldn't carry too much in the way of luggage. Plus it's hot in Liberia! Why can't I wear sandals?
Anyway, I started buying better shoes for my next foray into Africa and/or my next job, because I don't want to humiliate myself again. It seems I'm supposed to be an adult now, but as far as the shoes go, I don't mind. I like the new shoes. I only buy flats, because I hate being extra super tall. I'm tall enough, I think. But these red flats make me smile.
T-minus three weeks to the J.D.
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