I don’t know what I did, but these shoes have been squeaking incessantly.
And I don’t mean like, a quiet, muffled squeal. I don’t know if I’d call them so much as “squeaks” as “shrieks” — because they are loud, they are obnoxious, and they make people stare at me as I walk by because every step I take sounds like I am crushing mice underfoot.
If you watched too much Spongebob as a kid like me, then maybe you’re reminded of the season one episode where Mr. Krabs gives Spongebob squeaky boots, and Spongebob proceeds to annoy the hell out of everyone in Bikini Bottom by squeaking everywhere he goes. That’s basically what I’ve felt like whenever I wear these shoes — a squeaky, annoying Spongebob.
And with all of the yellow I’ve been wearing lately, I think my transformation into Spongebob Squarepants is almost complete. I just need a Krusty Krab hat and a spatula now.
In reality, of course, I think I’d probably be more like a Squidward — a tired, easily-irritable grump overly-convinced of their artistic talent. Maybe I’m a Squidward with squeaky boots?
At any rate, I think it’s time these shoes go in the trash. It’s a little unfortunate because that means that was the third pair of short black boots I’ve worn through (or lost) in the last year. I go through these things like Tic Tacs.
That’s about it for today. Thanks for reading, and I’ll see you in the next one with more updates on my life at Notre Dame. Don’t forget to check me out on Pinterest, Instagram, Facebook, Bloglovin, Twitter, and Tumblr! For business inquiries, shoot me an email at firstname.lastname@example.org!
Top: White House Black Market
Trousers: The LOFT
Squeaky shoes: I’m actually not sure. They’re in the trash now though, so if anybody wants me to ship them to them, I’ll dig them out for you.