Are you allowed to be sentimental about flip flops?

If you read my AMCAS personal statement, you know that during Hurricane Katrina, I went to work with just enough clothes to last three days. I didn't think that the hurricane was going to be so devastating. I don't think many people did. I had been on lock down at the hospital before. I pack up my stuff, and I never needed it because I was home in less than 24-hours. After Katrina, I found out that my house was pretty much destroyed. Unfortunately, the shoes I was wearing became my only pair of shoes. There were no stores open - no way to run out and buy a new pair. I needed the shoes to wear to work, but I also needed to be able wade through the mud and muck in my home to salvage my possessions. I had a dilemma. I also wanted to try to get my clothes and some other things from my home. The problem was solved for me. When Mike and I went to check on our elderly neighbors, I didn't want to get out of the truck because of the mud. Mike went to check on them while I stayed in the truck. Mike found a pair of mud-covered flip flops. Someone else had been to the apartment, and they had removed these flip flops and left them in the parking lot because they didn't want to get the mud in their car. They fit like a glove....errr....like a flip flop? Anyway, those flip flops meant something to me. In a world were I could call very little my own, these flip flops were now mine. I worked in them every day for weeks to take care of my house and to spare my work shoes from getting nasty. It has been a little over two years that I have cherished these flip flops, and I was devastated the day that they broke. I couldn't bring myself to throw them away even though I couldn't wear them. Finally, I took a picture and wrote this story. Now that my flip flops will live on in blog infamy, I can retire the flip flops to their final resting place in my trash can.