My name is Donna-Michelle St. Bernard and this is my tenth thought.

I have these red boots. I love them. As soon as I saw them I knew my life would change if I could only have them. Then I got those boots. I love them. And I almost never wear them. They are those things that are so special, too special, no occasion is ever special enough for me to unsheathe their majesty. They're not gonna get muddy or wet or worn shiny on that one toe I like to rub against the back of my calf. You can barely tell they have anything to do with me. They just sit there, pristine and neglected. Like the phone numbers of all my most cherished friends.

And since this isn't new behaviour, I can predict that by the time I finally decide to put those boots on, they will no longer fit, and I will have wasted a very good boot. My boots deserve better than that.