I've Sprung a Leak

In the grand scheme of things, I suppose it's not so bad. But when you've been blanketed in two feet of snow, with more to come, it's really hard to put some things into perspective. Out for a post-breakfast trek in the snow this morning with WH, I noticed that my feet were extra chilly, despite my two pairs of socks. I told WH, and he said, "Well, you are walking through ice." Deep thoughts.

A little further into our walk, and I realize that my feet are wet, wet, wet. You know the kind of wet where you can actually feel the squish, squish, squish with each step? A particularly troubling situation since I had just invested in a (not-so-stylish) pair of new boots just before Christmas and our first blizzard. How long should a pair of fleece-lined rubber winter boots last? My feeling is probably more than three storms/two months-worth, no?

So I slopped myself home, and not to my surprise, both feet were soaked. I can almost feel my pneumonia kicking in already (cough, cough). But the bigger problems loom forward:

1. What to do for the next who-knows-how-many days without boots?
2. Take the boots back to the store (without the long-gone receipt) and demand a refund?

I just can't decide. The store where I got the boots (I'm not naming names, but it rhymes with Spine Test) is right next to my office, so it'll be easy enough to get there and ask for at least something of a refund -- but is it worth it? I've worn them since December, so they're clearly not new, but they really shouldn't be filling with water already, methinks. Or, I could go total old school and use plastic bags under a pair of socks (did anyone else's mom do that to keep you from getting wet?). Then again, I realize that I'm no one to be trifled with when it comes to matters of shoes (never mind customer service).

And speaking of customer service, I have to say, I'm person you don't want to go head to head with when I've been poorly served. I've been known to demand supervisor after supervisor until I get my demands met, whether it's prompt cable TV service (a myth in and of itself), a refund for a service fee on a faulty refrigerator, or credit for shoddy service at the hotel during our honeymoon (we've been traveling on those rewards points for the past year!). I don't really envy the poor clerk who is going to have to listen to the sad tale of the leaky boots. S/he should just concede now and give me store credit. (Incidentally, lest you think I'm one of those horrible people who is never satisfied, I've also been known to write a pleasantly worded letter of praise when I've received exceptional service, or my dilemma has been solved adequately.)

I keep reminding myself, I have power, my roof hasn't caved in, and my wine supply continues to hold out, so there's not much to complain about. With one Netflix movie left to watch, perhaps I should just hunker down and enjoy being snowbound (until my next customer service dilemma presents itself).