Tie It Tight

I am wondering how much accumulated time has been spent on tying my shoelaces.  No, I haven't turned into a dimwit overnight, it's a significant question for a significant action.  I don't know about you, but I tend to wear boots and shoes with laces.  It's a problem relationship, but I cannot break it off.  Laces are troublesome as they inevitably become undone at the most inopportune moments; and for me they must, at all times, be tied tight.  My feet have to be snug in the confines of the boot/shoe, so that I can go about my day.  If my feet are assured, I am assured.  My ankles up, depend and rely on the circumstances down below.  I find if it's tied tight, I can confer more easily and more readily.  Although recently, "easily" and "readily" hasn't necessarily translated into we want you, we like you, you're hired.  It's more than the laces now.  I can compromise, I can play footsie, just respondie.  At the very least, an acknowledgement that I have written, that I have called, that I have applied would be sufficient, otherwise, I am rendered as my own footnote.  Isn't procrastination, and let's call it that for the moment, a subheading in the cardinal sin list? I am not a foot-dragger, so why are you?  My professional dealings, like my laces cannot be slack, but sure-footed.  It's the tie that binds, and I have formed an attachment to the person at the other end of each e-mail sent and call made. The curtain is up, and the footlights are hot, so where's the audience? Okay, okay, okay.  In the meanwhile, I'll stay grounded, digging in my heels, with no footrest, just a belief that my achilles is an ache, and not a prolonged vulnerability.  Laces, I need to tie you especially tight these days, don't break on me.