there's nothing like a rainy day to make you realize your pants are getting too long. i've been doing this coquettish holding them up thing that's really best reserved for wearing skirts or living in 1893. since i've had these pants for years, i was confounded that they're too long when they were perfect last winter. and since it's me i'm speaking about you'll understand that my first thought was "oh my god, i'm shrinking". and then i took some tums. for the calcium. so my osteoporized bones might hold out a bit longer.
it wasn't until i reached work that i realized that it's not my bones that are shrinking. it's moments like this which make me glad i keep my diploma on my wall (like a dentist) because i'd never believe someone gave me such a thing if i didn't have proof. what would i do with my time if i didn't spend so much of thinking the worst. idle hands are the devils workshop.
so, pants. is there anything more complicated than dressing a changing body? do i hem them or do i buy new ones that may or may not be replaced in the next months? these are tricky questions for me because i'm really tired of dressing like a student. i hate making clothing choices out of necessity rather than pleasure, but i love that the same clothes i was worried would be lost because they were too small are now too big. i have to remember that i could be needing new things like seatbelt extenders rather than smaller pants. it could be so much worse.
i feel like i write this post every other week. hey, i'm fat and my clothes don't fit. that should be my new title. guaranteeing repetition with every post! i can't deny the truth universally acknowledged that you can't feel good about yourself if you think you look like shit all the time. in the vein of choosing things that will work with me along my "journey" i'm thinking skirts. short ones. it'll be good for the morale, the boyfriend's, if nothing else.