72 doors and the Skechers were not up to it. (one from the vault)

They're cute as all get out, but they're not ready for prime time campaigning. Three blisters. Not Cool, Skechers. Not cool. I finished the doors, but my feet were Officially Pissed Off. And my hourly door rate went into the cellar. 24 doors/hour? What am I? An amateur?

I've got my trusty Liz Claiborne sandals on today (can't find a link). I think I've got 80+ doors to do this evening.


Originally posted August 4, 2009 on my other blog.