Not my shoes, too...

Sleep brings me odd feelings and dreams. That there's been a mistake, that I'm bald, that my dogs have died (they already have...), that my house has burned, that no one shows up for Christmas. That none of my shoes fit anymore. One might expect the obvious; absent titties, pain, fear, death, but, no. I get to agonize over gorgeous shoes I can't fit into. WTHeck???