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.
No comments:
Post a Comment