Earlier this month, my employer had an employee appreciation week for all members of the hospital. We were all given new lunch boxes and t-shirts, which we were to wear on one of the days instead of our normal scrub tops. Always looking for an excuse to ditch my scrub tops, I wore the burgundy tee with my black uniform pants and shoes which all looked sort of dark and depressing; to liven everything up, I decided to wear my favorite socks on the planet, my nerdy glasses socks. I pulled the first on, as I had countless times over the past few years, when I was struck with the greatest heartbreak that I have ever faced. My glasses sock ripped a hole in the heel.
Whatever, I thought, I can hide a hole, this is fine. It was not fine. I put my other sock on and my nightmare began all over again—my second sock had ripped in the same exact spot. Work wasn’t the same. The continental breakfast provided to the employees as a token of thanks from the Health System filled my stomach but I was still empty inside. Knowing that these socks that I purchased at Nordstrom’s were ordered two jobs ago, my future of owning this particular sock design was looking bleak.
My fingers flew over the keys as I searched Nordstrom’s online store. No Luck. Remember the small pear logo on the top of each sock, I Google searched “Eyeglass Sock Pear” and there it was. My coveted glasses socks, manufactured by a company called Woven Pear. Clicking link after link, there they were, for sale for a mere $15, free shipping. The Socks. The company high speed internet couldn’t keep up with how fast I threw them into my electronic cart. Before checking out, a second pair, an ANKLE pair, of socks with a winking eye design was suggested to me based on the first pair. Sold. After the 10% off coupon code from signing up for email updates, my $25 order was reduced to $22.50 and they were shipped out same day. The package was left in my mailbox a mere two days later and it felt like Christmas morning when I opened the package.
My socks. They were home.