Getting frustrated that I still had yet to be dressed, and that 5 precious minutes had passed, I tried on outfit after outfit- hating each more than the last. This one's too tight. This one's too short. It's too cold for this one. This one's too big. All of them were wrong in some way, and by now 9 minutes had passed, and it looked like a post-black Friday shopping session had taken place in my closet. I finally settled on a dress that I'd worn for our first date; it seemed fitting for dinner at a new restaurant, and I could throw on a cardigan [and tights]. I quickly went to put on my trusty black tights, and… they didn't fit. Maybe my thighs had doubled in size since last Winter. Maybe they had shrunk in the wash. Let's be honest, maybe they'd just gathered weirdly since I was rushing to put them on. Whatever it is, they had failed me and I sat on our bed feeling defeated. I ran back into the closet, grabbed the hosiery bin and dumped it onto our bed. I found another pair of thin leggings that would work, but when I put them on I felt that my curvy legs looked too shiny with the material- that I looked like I walked on 2 curvaceous sausages.
My sweet husband smiled as I walked around moaning that my legs were "too shiny!". 14 minutes. I flopped on our bed and felt terrible. I hated all of my clothing, I hated my body, I hated my "shiny" legs… Everything which would normally be a not big deal WAS a big deal, and it was devastating me in such an annoying way. The Bearded Wonder wrapped his arms around me and said everything he knows to be true: "You look amazing. You're so beautiful. I love you so much.". But when you're an irrationally emotional woman, these words (while so heartfelt and wonderful to hear) just bounce off your lustrous legs and fall onto the floor.
So. That was my Friday night. I'd had a perfectly fine day, and in a matter of ~15-20 minutes I'd completely bottomed out and was hating my body. How did that happen? Was it because I get really stressed out when I'm feeling rushed? Was it because I needed to do laundry, or shave my legs? What is it that makes a woman go from feeling pretty fine and dandy to plummeting to the belly of the beast? Hubbins was giggling at me running spastically around our room, and I told him that tomorrow I would find this hilarious, but today I wanted to hide under our blankets and not come out.
|No, Jess, I wasn't!|
If you do Thanksgiving, enjoy your foods! If you do Black Friday, throw an elbow! My friend and I are doing our annual black friday tradition (which we totally have down to a science), and plan on walking into Target like so:
You can't handle our Black Friday swagger. Or something.
Any Thanksgiving plans, friends? Do you do Black Friday? Do you have a plan of attack?