Last night I dreamed I had found the perfect name for my manuscript. I was so excited I wrote it down in my red beaded notebook and I was going email a few friends knowing that they would love this more than anything. Now it's morning and I'm awake and I cannot recall the perfect title. I can recall the excitement, the notebook, the shadow of the words (I can *almost* read them in my mind), but it's lost.
I did my Tuesday confessions last night and I realize I like my morning confessions better as they don't carry the weight of the day.
The shoe thing-- Okay, it's been truly interesting to a nerd like me to hear where and when people take off their shoes and where they don't. I know some people don't like whatever germs are on someone's shoes wandering through their homes, others are more worried about the rug. All summer, we track in sand from the beach in the house and fall/wtr is all wet muddy stuff, I tend to take off my shoes just for the convenience of not wanting to sweep later.
A few years ago I ordered this from Pottery Barn (see photo below) to have right by the front door (because our shoes were always everywhere) and it's one of my very favorite things. When my family leaves their shoes, hats, iPods anywhere near the door, they magically disappear into these wicker bins. Oh, remember the world before we had bins for everything, before the Container Store? I don't.
We have hardwood floors, but I take off my shoes in preference of slippers.
Maybe I should be mapping this. Maybe instead of red and blue states we should have shoeless and shoe state. Maybe we all just own too many shoes. No, never too many shoes.