Start the week

My feet are in ribbons.

I bought a new pair of shoes at the weekend .. ordinary, bog standard, plain black shoes.

Nothing fancy.

I tried them on in the boutique, they were fine - wide enough and long enough.

No problems i thought.

I admit, here, that i only buy shoes when the old ones, which start to feel like a pair of beaten up old slippers, finally start popping at the seams ... i tend to alternate between two or three pairs and once pair "A" has given out i'll buy a replacement pair.

Consequently, the pair i've just replaced must be at least three years old *byeurk, you say*

I've forgotten what it's like to break new shoes in .. or rather ... i had forgotten, but today it all came eye wateringly, floodingly, back to me.

By the time i'd gotten in to work, i could feel that the blisters on my heels (plural) had burst and probably resembled an apprentice butchers cutting board - a quick hobble to the loos confirmed my worst(est) expectations... blood, skin and Tarantino style gore filled my socks.

The rest of the day was just a tear filled blur as i tried to butch things out.

*aie aie aie* "bonjour, monsieur ... allons dans mon bureau" *aie aie aie*

Tomorrow i'm going to have to go in wearing jeans and sneakers - nothing else will work.

On thursday, i've got no choice but to go fully decked out - i've got a meeting with an oil transportation company CEO in his Champs Elysées office ....