Actually, in this case, it was boots.

Sometimes I can’t throw this thing into my bra or onto my hip.  I find the inability to be discreet with my hardware frustrating, at times.  Very.  In lieu of throwing it against the wall, I’ll clip it gently, and with purpose, to the top of my boot and pretend that the tubing is a whisper of translucence, and pretend that because I can’t feel it against my skin, it’s not there. I remind myself to be grateful for the access that I have to things like this, and then I move on.

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