Tuesday, April 21, 2015

The same old

The smell of my feet makes me uncomfortable.  I left my shoes outside of the front door of the last three apartments to not drag it in. But here it is. And I can't avoid it. You run from something long enough and eventually you forget about it. 

Or it catches up. 

I bartered with this guy I used to work with, Juan, for his back stock of those odor eating shoe inserts. I've been out for months. 

Juan used to pick up dishes from dirty tables at the restaurant I worked at. Not the one with the shitty boss. But the one that gave vacation time if you worked six day a week. Juan worked six days there. And seven at the place with the shoe inserts. He always showed up with a tie and no name tag. I suspected he made his other seven days out to be better than these six. But when we are both just trying to get by unnoticed you don't ask to much about it. 

But back to the issue at hand. 

Or foot. 

I can't sleep. I can smell my feet through the sheets. And the blanket. And the comforter. And the stench lingers. And settles in my nose. And I think about the last time it happened. 

I had athlete's foot the day before the first day of junior high.  I stayed up all night worried I wouldn't fit in. And that the older kids would know my feet itched. And that first day of gym we'd have a lady come in and check our toes and if we weren't clean I'd be destined to seventh grade forever. 

I never want to be in seventh grade again. 

Especially forever.