Just call me Limpy McGee

You'd think that at my age I would have learned to not wear new shoes for the first time when walking around the neighbourhood running errands. You would, but you'd be wrong. I went out earlier this week, and thought my new shoes would go perfectly with my outfit. And they did. But when I got home, I saw that my decision was a poor one. I had no less than three blisters. Per foot. Two of which are large enough to have their own postal codes. I'm in immense pain and it is all my fault. Wah!