Melts in your mouth.. not in your hands..

It was one of those days....

Woke up... late. Dragged myself out of the wrong side of the bed...

My blow dryer set my round brush on fire.. while still in my hair.

How does that happen one asks..??

..... I'm still trying to figure that out.

I changed about 27 times for work. Still nothing looked good. Nothing felt right. Blah.

Black.

Black pants.. black high heels.. black shirt. Black is slimming??

Black is boring.

Eyeliner... It only made it on to one of my eyes... while rushing out the door I figured out something looked a little...... funny...

Me.

So distracted. My mind has been running a million miles a minute.

Life.

I got to work and had a little bit of a pants crisis... if you will..

So.... Banana Republic in the middle of the work day?

At what point did I think it was OK to go and try on pants on an already self conscious day??

I pulled a size 4.

No.... actually...

I pulled 8 different pairs of black size 4 pants.

None of them fit. None of them looked good. Not one.....

Before admitting to myself that I have done way too much... football watching and delicious food eating lately...

I decided to try... 8 more pair of black size 4 pants.

I almost had a meltdown.

Right there. Right in the middle of the Banana Republic fitting room.

As if my black outfit now had it's place in this world...

I was in mourning.

"How are those sizes working out for you?" (A sweet... almost obnoxious little voice through the fitting room door )

It doesn't matter if i suck it in.. jump.. wiggle... squirm...

I asked the skinny size 0 bi o tch to grab me a size 6.

Size 6 did not cut off my circulation.

So tomorrow I trade my diet coke in for water, and my baking for the stair climber.