Adventures in boot leakage

In case you didn't notice, it's winter. Season of flu, long-johns, scarves, and people who sound like Fat Tony from the Simpsons. And, for me, season of boot-guilt.

Yes indeed, boot guilt. Y'see, I generally like to have big clompy winter boots that could easily squish a chihuahua, if they so chose. The kind of boots that are waterproof, salt-proof, fire-proof and probably even nuclear-attack-proof. The kind of boots which strike fear into the hearts of men.

Unfortunately, these kinds of boots have very, very large treads. This is good for grip while walking out side, but bad once one gets inside. Why? because of boot-leakage. My large treads accumulate a large amount of snow between them, which, once I go inside, melts into ginormous pools of saly, gritty water. If I only went inside once or twice a day, then this would be fine. But I don't. At least five times day my hooj boots must make little lakes on carpets and floors. This becomes a problem for me, because I have often have to put my backpack on the floor next to this tiny deluge, and for other's whom I'm always dripping on inadvertantly.

So now I stamp my boots on the way into buildings, leaving endless slushy bootprints and looking like some angry teen having a hissy fit ("I don't wanna go to class!" *stamp*). I feel bad for the poor janitors (having done it, I know how much it sucks to have to clean up snow slush -- having to empty your bucket after five square feet of floor is no fun at all). I feel bad for having to take up another seat in a crowded classroom with my bag, because I know my bag will get wet on the floor from my boot leakage.

So I've retreated into wearing other boots (ones with tiny, nearly worn-down treads) -- less safe and waterproof perhaps, but less work for all involved. Also, less boot guilt.