Well, in my case that is. Especially as I get cold feet pretty easily (not in the sense of losing courage). But today is probably the first day in the entire year that I've left home for work without any socks.
Gone are the days of boots. For many of you, readers, I understand it's hard to visualize this while you're in the sort of climate where boots aren't needed and bare feet are almost norm, but I beg you not to visualize the big clunky boots the word seems to signify. But yes, I now have to transition myself from the comfort of pulling on the snug boots and put them back into the closet for what may be another year.
I love socks. It goes along with my love for soft and cuddly things. Socks, blankets, comforters, pillows, teddy bears, hoodies. I'm a fanatic for comfort, and I'm definitely addicted to warmth.
And I can definitely tell you that this seduction is supremely alluring. Against better judgement, I have this almost overwhelming bad habit of just revelling in the sensation of sunshine on my skin. Sitting out in the sun reading, writing, just staring at the clouds. Walking in the sweltering heat without even feeling uncomfortable because I am that much taken by the charm of the sun.
By the end of every summer, when I have turned 23948230 shades darker and have those gradients from fair to dark going along my arms and legs, I promise myself that next summer I'll use more caution and won't do it again, and each time the craving for the sunshine just seems to overrule any sense of reasoning and I just fall in love all over again.
Head over heels - and those are bare heels, for the record.
