This morning I was cleaning up a shoe shelf and ran into my "outside" flip flops. These are my old ones or my yard ones. Flip flop wearers, I'm sure you know what I'm talking about.
"Well," I said to myself "might as well throw these away since I will never wear flip flops again." Won't need a left foot one and walking with one foot in one flip flop just sounds like a recipe for disaster. So off I headed to the trash can.
But as I was about to throw them in, the little voice in my head cried "Wait, you might not have your foot amputated and you will want those flip flops next summer." It amazes me that I still have this little voice. I mean, I think about amputation all the time. My brain is constantly trying to go over it and figure it out and prepare for it like it is some dreaded rubix cube I will somehow solve. How can I think amputation 24/7 and still have a little voice crying "wait!"? I imagine I will have the little "maybe this won't happen" voice until I wake up in the hospital without a foot.
If you're wondering what happened, I talked myself into throwing away the flip flops anyway. I told myself these are the old yard ones, I have other ones (which I will have to face throwing away later) and I can always buy more flip flops if I suddenly have some magical feet again.
Anyway, flip flops are the in the trash. Its a bad day for them. Its a good day for me.
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