Iâm over it, youâre over it, and the whole of Boston is over it. This winter is taking its toll on Boston and its suburbs. I feel it has taken a little bit of my soul away, my wine intake has increased, my gym visits are non-existent, my waistline continues to grow, my restaurant reviews are at zero and I am over my snow boots.
I miss my shoes, I miss standing at the number 7 bus stop in high boots and I canât bare to look at my goddamn snow boots another day. This and the fact that I have to go to work being 5ft and not my true height of 5.4 ft is what is sending me over the edge of insanity.
This morning as I walked to the doorway of my condo, knowing I was going to slip my little feet into my big Patagonia Snow Boots once again, my heart sunk deep. The path to the street is 5 inches wide with 13 feet snow piles on the sidewalk filled with dirt and peopleâs trash because there is nowhere to put it. It was -12 degrees on my iPhone, which by the way died the second I walked out of my house because it doesnât like the cold and I wanted to go back to bed and curl up into a ball until spring or maybe summer.
In all honesty, the boots are saving me the slip and fall, which would inevitably happen if I wore inappropriate footwear just for this short walk alone and for that I thank them.
These particular snow boots are quite new as I lost my old ones during my move last year. I have no idea where they are but I am sure I will find them once the snow has melted around August and I no longer need them.
I will say if you want to find a good pair, these are probably the best I have found over the years. They are snug and warm and really quite comfortable but darn it, I just donât want to look at them or wear them anymore. Or now that I think about it and perhaps I am going crazy, I do think they look quite lovely with my work clothes today :).
Are you over your snow boots?
LOL – yes, very much over my bedraggled, tattered, salt-stained snow boots. I miss being able to go outside without wearing my protective sheath of bright purple long johns. Underneath heavy gray trousers and thick padded arctic jackets and puffy gloves. I can’t remember a winter like this. Ever.
I hear you loud and very depressingly clear Frederick đ