A Distracted Accountant Part Two

You’re sitting on the couch, legs crossed. Look at your phone for a while until I enter the room. You say I’m being starey again. “Oh…no I’m not wearing my black kitten heels today. Um…yeah, I am a size 6”, you say, almost impressed at my guess. Wait, why are we talking about my shoes?” “Did you need something?” “Tuesday 3 o’clock, yes they told me.” You roll your eyes. Next scene, wearing black heels: You’re lying on the couch with your legs outstretched, one foot crossed over the other (your shoes nearest the camera). You’re staring at a sheet of paper. Eventually stand up and walk back and forth a couple of times. Then slowly step out of one shoe at a time without using your hands, leaving them propped up beside each other. You walk around barefoot and the shoes are still in view as well. Cut to a shot where the shoes are no longer there. You come back in the door, looking down. You notice the shoes are missing and then you spot me. Walk towards the camera an