Signs of Sandals

I like signs. I like to believe things get put in our path by God to encourage, affirm, guide.

I don’t know why this is and it is not keeping with my usual  bent towards I-like-the-concrete-reject-all-things-made-of-fanciful-hooey.

A lot of my signs have come from movies. A therapist said this is because I am a people-watcher and movies give me a great opportunity since film captures behaviors and nuances so well. I don’t know, but I have gone to the movies and had them be about or highlight exactly what I was struggling with at the time. One time it was so intense, I asked the friends I was with if they saw it too. AND THEY DID.

So this is proof signs are real or I pick friends as weird as myself.

Let’s go with the former.

Earlier I said “my” signs. I do believe they need to be specific. I mean, it can’t be a stop sign at an intersection that just means Stop to everyone who comes upon it.

They also have to resonate. As another friend says, your inner ding has to go off.

So the internet is messing with my ding. The algorhythms for tailoring ads is throwing off my receptors.

For example, I read a blog post naming a brand of shoe. I had not heard of the brand and searched for it. And there I saw these sandals.

And I love them. Oh, I love them.

I want them in black. They may be a bit much for the grocery store/preschool run, but I would wear them. And I would love them.

And I now see them everywhere. But, sadly, it is not a sign. It is just good programming by the internet geniuses.

As if life is not complicated enough, I now have to figure out the difference between God and Google.