Whew! The week of chaos is over and I am alive. Actually it wasn’t so bad – I tried to just take things day by day, and I lived to tell about it, so it’s all good.
My weight is holding steady at 186 which is a God-send because eating this week has been all over the place. I feel grateful that I didn’t gain.
Okay are you ready for a sad story? Not sad as in someone little kid has a disease, but sad as in “woe is me, join me in my pity party, won’t you?”
Yesterday I wore a dress to work. When my husband asked why I was wearing a dress (instead of my usual jeans) I said it was because I was tired of wearing jeans every day and wanted to wear something different. The truth is that when I pulled my jeans out of the dryer to put them on, they were too tight. I know jeans are always a little tight when you get them out of the dryer, but I haven’t had that problem with these jeans because they were always just a little bit big. Not anymore. I got some other pants out of my closet to wear, and they also were too tight, as were the third and fourth pair I tried on.
Le Sigh.
I have no pants. Like a man without a country, I am a woman without a pair of pants.
Now, I have always been one to say “go buy clothes that FIT, don’t worry about the size”, but damn, y’all I just don’t know if I can go buy a size EIGHT-FRIGGIN-TEEN. I think that might send me over the edge, even if they are the cutest jeans in the world. Just the thought of pulling a pair of size EIGHT-GINORMOUS-TEEN pants off the rack and holding them up makes me sweat a little bit. And I realize, it’s not the actual size that bothers me so much as it is that I NEED that size; that I have let myself go to the point where I need to venture outside of my comfortable 14/16 size and must foray into these larger unfamiliar sizes. I am heading in the opposite direction of where I intended to go. I think my GPS is busted.
And in a related story, I have decided I just can’t pull off the capris look. My legs are so short and my calves are so big, that capris make my legs look like stubby little tree trunks. The only solution I can think of is go with the maxi dress for the rest of the spring/summer. And can we talk about the name “maxi dress”? I know it’s supposed to be the opposite of mini skirt, but couldn’t the fashion world have come up with a better name? It sounds like something you should wear during your special Lady Time every month, or something so big that a circus would consider renting it from you for their show.
Are you having a good time at my pity party? Would you like some more punch?
So what I’m saying is, that either I suck it up and by bigger pants or hide myself under a big dress for the next 6 months. Either way, I’m not happy about it. And even if by the grace of God I do lose some weight, it won’t be enough to make a difference this summer, so once again, I’m going to be spending every gathering and family get-together feeling self conscious. I hate that.
Okay, gag. Enough of that. Even I’m sick of my whining at this point.
I hope you all have a good weekend. Me and my enormous ass are going to go shopping for circus tents. Let’s hope we find one without stripes.
I promise I’ll make it up with a funny post sometime soon!
