Prufrock's sandals

I’ve been wearing sandals at work in this hot weather. Very liberating, and not in contravention of the dress code as far as I am aware. But I do keep socks and shoes to hand in case a more formal occasion demands it (although I find that now I am older I don’t really define much as formal anymore; as TS Eliot said in The Love Song of Alfred J Prufrock “I grow old, I grow old, I shall swear the bottoms of my trousers rolled”).
 
Got caught out today 'though. We had a team briefing when everyone stands around listening to the senior people give latest news and suddenly I heard my name being mentioned and heard it said that I was going to give a briefing on a project we are rolling out. Now I’m pretty comfortable with ad libbing but was very conscious of the fact that I was standing in front of the entire organisation with my pinkies on view. This wouldn’t have been quite so uncomfortable if an unkind colleague hadn’t told me the previous week that I should “get myself a little pedi” if I was going to wear sandals. In my defence I did cut my toenails over the weekend, but a little buffing up with an emery board might have been appropriate for a public speaking engagement.
 
I could make this into a career I suppose. A few weeks ago I received a phone call from a confused elderly lady in Bolton named Barbara, who asked when I would be free to pop ‘round to attend to her podiatric needs. I let her down gently; I wasn’t local and I wasn’t qualified. But we had a little laugh about it.
 
As days go it was a long one today; the holiday season has started and things have slowed a little. There is still lots to do and deadlines aplenty but the sense of urgency isn’t there for me.  I have, like Prufrock, become a little jaded of late (one NHS reorganisation too many). Although having read it up perhaps I will withdraw the reference; according to Wikipedia “Prufrock laments his physical and intellectual inertia, the lost opportunities in his life and lack of spiritual progress, and he is haunted by reminders of unattained carnal love. With visceral feelings of weariness, regret, embarrassment, longing, emasculation, sexual frustration, a sense of decay, and an awareness of mortality, "Prufrock" has become one of the most recognised voices in modern literature.” Sounds like a Brexit voting old git, definitely not me. 
 
We actually went to the other extreme and had a conversation about millennials today. Much more interesting. Apparently the offspring of millennials are called Alphas and like their parents will “respond to authenticity not hierarchy”. Sounds good to me. I’ve never been fond of barriers and formality. I mean, just look at these sandals…