Dear shoes,
Both of you.

Where are you? Please let it be that a homeless giant clown came across you and put you on like some weird post apocalyptic western cowboy? It doesn’t matter that we’re on the east coast.

Because it seems, all my dress shoes are gone.

“But Eric, huh?”

I know! This is my life. Apparently this is the cost of being me. I’m scared this is a sign that I’ve been holding my life together by a shoelace and it’s one mistake where everything gets undone and comes loose.

I don’t like self-identifying with ADHD unless it’s funny or insightful, because it’s so loaded. Can seem like an excuse. Can really give people a jump to conclusion shtick rather than information that’ll help people see more. But this time’s the latter – knowing that I’ve probably lost my shoes is a wake up call that I need to sit back and tighten up my organization game. So shoes, if you can hear me, I’ve got the message loud and clear and you can come back home now. I’d like to get in you tomorrow and hoof to work.

Please?

Daw ok.

My black oxfords were an accepted bitten bullet. I have three bags that I use to bring extra stuff for running club. One has three pockets and one has a broken zipper. I got into a rihanna song and asked a friend to bring a portal speaker to hash. I put it in the bottom of the big pocket with the busted zipper. Where I keep my shoes. A mile later I learn that my bag has one speaker and one shoe.

Part of who I am is perseverance. It is a good thing and a bad thing. It means I am equally likely to stubbornly not quit, whether it’s admirable or silly. Or both. And stubborn brain was like “yo you can retrace your steps and get that shoe dawg, you must have dropped it over the last three miles.”

And prudent me said “you are already a dumbass and are about to run a half marathon and your ankles are already finding the rest of you insufferable and now you want to go on a 3am wild shoe hunt through brooklyn that is foolish and not worth the subhundred dollars that those shoes value.”

And then other voice said “AND YOU KEEP BITCHING ABOUT HOW YOUR FEET ARENT SIZE 13 ANYMORE AND THOSE SHOES FELT LIKE A NEWBORN GIRAFFE WALKING AROUND WITH ELEPHANT FORESKINS FOR TOES LET THEM GO”

And then self-aware voice said “Yo other voice, you’re Rationalization aren’t you?”

And other voice was like “ya dawg”

And then master voice said “ALL OF YA SHADDAP THIS IS TOO MANY VOICES AND THE MISSION IS TO GO HOME.”

And I kept walking for 3 more blocks in my running sneaks

*slipslipslip*

(that’s the sound of my running sneakers because they’re very quiet)

stubborn voice “….seriously though what if they’re just like right off of Atlantic-“

master: “THATS IT. ENDING THIS POSSIBILITY.”

And I felt my hand reach into my bag

and pick out my sole sisterless shoe

and walk to an nyc wastebin

and put it in

LIKE RUBBISH

(THEY WERE JUST SHINED

I GOT THEM WHEN I JOINED MY DIVISION

THEY WERE THE BLACK OXFORDS THAT TAUGHT MY THAT BLACK OXFORDS ARE QUINTESSENTIAL PROFESSIONAL ITEM)

Each step away from that wastebin felt very dramatic and disappointing and dumb and there was no side, not a one, that felt vindicated or smart or wise or like I was anyone but a dumbass who couldn’t keep his dress shoes throughout a running event

Such was the cost of silly me in my silly lifestyle, incidents happen

which brings us to today

My double monk-strap brown ones

That I got and had since I was consulting

Simply gone

And either the plumber took them (i really doubt it)

I left them in my gf’s house and she is unable to locate them (I super doubt it)

My ridiculous brain had one of those voices of chaos determine that I should put them in a special new location and that I will surely remember, and then forgot (but I can’t imagine where, they are conspicuous shoes, and I can not find them.)

Or while coming home from work, I did that thing I thought was smart and slick and slipped into my super cushy sneaks on the train and forgot to put them back in my bag because I got distracted with that phone call (this is frighteningly possible)

I have looked a lot and it is time:

I have reached the point where it is a pleasant surprise if these shoes turn up. I will have to go to sleep and wonder why my brain does these things with so little attention that a memory doesn’t consolidate and I have to acknowledge that what is stupid, is possible, or after a point even probable.

And what’s extra dumb is that it turns out that missing a shoe and not being sure how is a lot like missing your cat. You wonder where it is. You hope it’s not in a place for the miserly and garbaged. You hope you will turn around and realize that you’re a big doof and that it was really behind you the whole time and look in places you’ve already looked three, four, five, six times

but it never manifests

because that’s how physics work.

So you’re left with bills and psychology and deals with yourself and new chores that aren’t cheap.

I also have to plan around my weaknesses, which means rituals, and zippers, and conscientiously doing one thing at a time.

Goodbye shoes. This is the 1042nd saddest goodbye of my life.

May you find a more prescient place on poorer feet that you fit better.