Apparently I have reached the age of expansion in my life. Both mentally and physically. Not only am I becoming more comfortable stretching myself mentally by trying to discover who I'm really meant to be and what I'm meant to do, but I seem to be oh so successful at expanding physically as well. In other words, holy sh!t have I packed on the poundage!
I kinda knew I was fluffing out a little here and there, but thought "eh, its not that big a deal. Coupla turkey sandwiches and no carb days and I'll be fine.:" Turns out my excess fluff is a lot more than I was admitting. Not only has my ass exploded, but so have my thighs and boobs. I brushed it off telling myself I was prepping for hibernation. Winter is coming, and its supposed to be a bad one. I abhor being cold, so I'm just making sure I have adequate body fat so as not to be inconvenienced. At this rate, I could run around naked for 2 months and not be inconvenienced. Pretending I could actually RUN, that is. Good Lord.
So the pants the other day were painful. Not simply Uncomfortable, but seriously painful. They were stretchy SKINNY jeans! WTF?! I thought stretchy pants were supposed to work WITH your curves (aka misshapen lumps)? Yeah, yeah, yeah...I know I should have foregone the "skinny" part as those are more for the younger pre-child-bearing sticks, but come ON! These freakin' HURT. Early in the morning I had to unbutton them because they were making it hard to breathe. I folded the button thing down inside the front so it wouldn't flap around. Mistake. Big mistake. I had the imprint of the button next to my belly button. And it was so deep you could read it. AND my belly was totally chewed up by the exposed teeth on the zipper. (Yes, it was unzipped! I said I couldn't breathe, remember?) So that was a treat. Because they cut so far into my guts, I ended up with the most horrible diarrhea later in the day. Worse than if I'd had an XL milkshake for breakfast. And my skin actually hurt. I guess from being pressed into the fibers of the pants for roughly 8-9 hours. I had to peel and pick them off my hams when I finally got home. They were stuck like duct tape. If I wanted to torture myself I would've just worn some SPANX. And yes, I did lay on the floor and cry like a baby. You wanna talk smack about it?!
So as I lay on my bathroom floor blubbering, bawling and feeling sorry for myself, I had an epiphany. I needed to do something about this. Now! Right now! I dragged myself up off the floor, found my favorite yoga pants, sports bra and tshirt and put them on. Dug out my sneakers and threw on a headband. I was going to fix this shit right freakin now.
I went to Wal-Mart and bought all new stretchy pants 2 sizes too big.. Heck YAEH! Problem solved. Damn I'm good.