Why I don't wear sandals.

I wish they still had those sanitariums like they had in Victorian times that were somewhere remote with a lot of gardens and the people sit quietly in wicker chairs and everyone speaks in hushed tones and anyone who makes trouble is given LOTS of barbiturates. Do they still have those? Spas don't count because they force you to make a choice about what services you want. And you have to chat amiably with the lady doing your feet because you are ridden with guilt that another adult person is painting your toenails which is a ridiculous thing for another person to have to do for you unless you are paralyzed, and then the lady is invariably a recent immigrant who was a brain surgeon in her home country and she has to do manicures and pedicures until she can get certified in the US and she looks at you angrily the whole time and speaks in her native language to the tax attorney next to her and they laugh while looking at their customers because they're both really cross about how it was so much more fulfilling to do brain surgery and tax law than to listen to you yammer about your favorite nail polish and so then you feel you have to leave a particularly large tip because you feel so bad for the brain surgeon even though she actually did sort of a shitty job and you also ran out before your nails were dry because of all the dirty looks and guilt and besides, you are an adult and should be painting your own stupid toes and no one is looking at your toes anyway so getting a pedicure was totally pointless and you should instead donate that money to buy chickens for some poor bastard in Peru and so you definitely deserve to have a crappy pedicure and stay up the rest of the night eating ice cream out of the container because you feel so ashamed. Right? Of course right. Anyway: sanitarium.