Who decided I'm some sort of grown-up?

So in the past, I've had issues with getting dressed in the morning. In addition to my noted problems with clothing selection, I developed a habit of forgetting to wear a tie or a belt or both to work. This is a problem, because I (strangely) like wearing ties and I definitely appreciate it when my pants don't fall down. I've mostly grown out of this habit. Today, however, I left for work without shoes. This was a conscious decision, but it was very hard for me to do. I had left my black shoes in my car, and I thought if I used an alternate pair to get to my car, I'd leave them there, and then I'd need to wear another provisional pair to fetch the second pair, and then the provisional pair would be left behind, and eventually my head would explode (trust me, it would). Still, my head nearly exploded from the decision to depart shoeless. I circled around my room, searching for an alternative, delaying the inevitable. I pulled my pants up as a woman would lift her skirt as she steps up a curb or over a puddle. I stalled. With much difficulty, I made it to the elevator. There was another guy who got on, but he was too busy with his iPod to notice my resemblance to Joe Jackson. At the garage level, the cleaning lady nearly ran over me with the vacuum (she was getting on the elevator and obviously didn't expect someone to be getting off). My toes averted disaster, and I made it to my car safely. Yes, I am both a weenie and a dork of a high magnitude. But I (sort of) overcame my irrational disinclination to go to work with no shoes. That counts for something, doesn't it?

I quite obviously am stuck in the past...