Friday, 6:13 in the "P" "M"

ok, i'm about to cry, I rode my bike home from work and one of my wedged espadrilles fell out of my backpack. Actually I have the car of African-Americans to thank for informing me that my backpack zipper was half unzipped. They kept honking at me and I tried to ignore them for a block, thinking it was just your average white female heckling/cat calling in T-town, but thanks to them that's when I noticed a shoe was missing. So I turn around and head back the 6 miles to my office, never finding the missing shoe, and now I type teary-eyed before riding home. It's ok, they're just shoes, I tell myself. Then I answer myself with "no they're not, damn it. NO THEY ARE NOT."