I am bitchy. Annoyed. Fed up.

I have no clothes. Well, not completely true because I am wearing something even though it slightly resembles rags. Tattered and worn out rags. At least you’re not seeing my albino white ass walking down the road neked. That would be a sight.

As many other women, I am inflicted with Ihavenothingtowear Ihateallmyfuckinglclothes disease. Every morning is faced with utter hatred for my closet and dresser. Everything either doesn’t fit, out of style (who am I kidding, what style did I ever have?), even worse.. so hideous it should be burned instead - whoever thought that men’s polyester golf pants were cool should be shot. Wait, that’s ME!. A paper bag would be more appealing then some of this shit that I’ve held on to.
I can’t tell you how many shirts and pants I have hoarded away thinking that I’ll be a size 9 again. Really? It’s been almost 5 years since I’ve worn them, do I honestly think that they’re going to be worn again? And even if I could wear them, they would probably be fit for the burn pile too! Gah!

I avoid change rooms like the plague; with those judgmental florescent lights and fun house-like mirrors (or is that just my ass?); it’s enough to make me want to shatter that fuckin’ mirror and slice my wrist with a shard of broken glass. (Too far?)
That just got me thinking. You know what the funniest job would be? To watch people try and squeeze their fat asses into tight pants through a one way mirror in a change room. Sick, but freakin’ funny! Sign me up!

I delayed far too long. Me and my new “mombody” just have to get over it, bite the bullet and go shopping. Find something to tuck in the muffin top, strap the girls together and get my shit together.

Should be good times. I’m looking forward to it. Really. I am. Can’t wait.

:::

Hey you working parents! Remember your first day back to work after the birth of a child (be it the first or the fourth)? Come tell us about it!