Today I am cheating just a little on my I've-never-done-this-in-my-life blog and am tweaking it just a little bit to I-haven't-done-this-in-fourteen-years blog. Today I put on a size fourteen blue jeans and they fit just fine. Now, some of you out there will be thinking “Oh sweet baby Jesus, that's a big woman!” I will deal with you later, hopefully when your back is turned. But some other people might be thinking “That is incredible! I can't believe you can finally fit in those!”. Those are the people I am talking to – the ones who saw me when I wore a size 24 jeans and were friends with me anyway.
I have now run into a problem though. I have heard this kind of problem labeled as First World Problems or White People Problems or even Skinny Girl Problems (though I am far from skinny yet). Get over it. I was so aggravated actually, that I realized how funny and absurd it was. I had somewhere I had to go and the weather being cold, I didn't want to wear a dress, plus I have a new sweater I wanted to wear. I keep my folded clothes and underthings in a seven foot tall, huge wardrobe cabinet and all of my jeans live on the very bottom. There are enough jeans in there to open a boutique. So, I start digging to find the perfect pair of jeans for my look. The first jeans I ran across were cute grey ones with rough edges. I decided those would be perfect and put them on and they promptly fell right back down around my ankles. I picked them up and looked at the size. They were a size 20. Well, that was okay, I had plenty of other jeans. Well, the next pair I picked up were 18's. Still too big, but not a problem. Then the next three pair I picked up were all size 20's and wouldn't fit me. So, I pulled a little footstool over and sat down to continue my dig. The next pairs were 22s and 24s! As I went down in the pile, the sizes kept going up in size! Then I panicked. Oh God! I don't have any clothes at all! I was ignoring all of the clothes in my closet and in the top part of the cabinet and was simply distraught that I had no pants. I can't go shopping without pants, though technically stores only seem to require shoes and a shirt. I started tossing all of the big pants out into a pile in the middle of the floor like girls do on TV shows when they have nothing to wear except all the great stuff that they do have to wear. Out of all of the pants I owned, do you know how many fit me? Two. I am now the proud owner of two pair of pants. I gave so many jeans to give to Goodwill that they fill up an entire kitchen bag, which I had to bag twice because the drawstring broke on the first bag. Now don't get me wrong, I'm tickled that I can give these pants to someone who could use them. I am not tickled over the idea of spending a good deal of time of my immediate future in pajama pants. I'll never be able to shop anywhere but Wal-Mart if that happens, though on the bright side, I will probably be voted most popular girl there. Going to any party besides a slumber party will be out of the question, and when I do dishes I'm either going to have to do them in a Sunday dress or a negligee. I can see me in one of the bridesmaids gowns on that are in my closet with my hair pulled back and big rubber gloves on cleaning toilets and scrubbing walls.
You know, I had always taken pants for granted. Even when I didn't have pants I necessarily liked, I still had them. And if I didn't have them, I could buy them. Well, I'm currently experiencing life as a poor person, and I cannot buy pants. I'd have to sleep with a manager to get pants or something. Huh, in that case, I guess not having the pants would be a bonus and things would be finished more quickly, but still; have you seen most store managers? Rarely have I ever walked into JC Penny's and found anyone there that I would want to sleep with in exchange for clothes. I somehow think that all store managers look like Drew Carey.
So there I sat, in the floor, crying because I had to give away all of my big girl jeans because I was too thin to wear them. It took me a minute to realize I was being one of the people that I had always wanted to beat up. Seriously? I'm bitching because I lost the weight I was trying to lose? Well, bless my heart. And that's why I feel like a big goober tonight. I wonder if I'm the kind of person who if I didn't have something to gripe about, I would gripe about not having anything to gripe about. I may just be a perpetually unsatisfied person. Man, I hate discovering things about my personality; because I usually find myself an annoying person to be around. I'm going to go record my laugh now and see if I have an obnoxious giggle.