It's 1:30 on a Wednesday, Do you know where your children are?

I do!

Ok, so this is an easy game because I don't have any offspring. But at 1:30pm on a Wednesday I should be working or something, but I'm not. I'm sitting around letting my mind wander, and it hurts a little bit, drinking coffee wondering what to do next.

I could put the wash into the dryer, but that would mean getting up and then in an hour or so I'd have to get up and fold it. All of this seems like too much effort right now. I mean when I got out of the shower I didn't really even get dressed. I'm wearing clothes, a lot of clothes, but I look like a homeless person. My mom told my sister I was practicing for pregnancy (third you should have a baby in two days). My plaid, flannel dress is so super shapeless that she might be right.

Oh, goodness yes, the washing machine is still going so I don't have to get up just yet!

But while I'm wasting my day being pathetic and trying to make my room smell like a human room people are out there living life and facing the world. I would be too, but it's raining and I'm broke and didn't have to work today. The rain and the broke sort of suck, and while I don't want to work being at work wouldn't be so bad.

Heck, I'm on facebook looking at pages of people who've passed away wondering why people still comment on their walls. Maybe facebook is the new religion? I dare say many people would go for that before they went for Jesus, who interestingly enough my wireless network has been named after.

Like how this didn't go anywhere?

Me too.

Mending: My New Favorite Hobby

Way, way back in the day the ladies of the house used to sit around in the evening fixing the family's clothes by the fireside. Picture rocking chairs and a warm glow. Maybe some pipe smoke, and I'd like to think tomorrow's bread.

Today I don't have that wonderfully nostalgic scene to mend in. Usually I am stuck either on my knees next to an ottoman or my bed squinting at holes and thread. Mending is not a blind person's job, yet I toil on. Why, you ask? Well, because somehow the thighs of all of my workout pants decided to disintegrate at the same time. All of my cardigans have what appear to be moth holes but are probably just pulls at the same time. My hems have all fallen out at the same time. My skirts need taken in and my straps need taken up, all at the same time.

I should see a professional. Should but can't. Somehow the summer time is the time that I find myself most broke. I don't get it, other than my car insurance being due it isn't that much different than any other season. Not only am I the most broke during the summer, I've discovered that I don't have complete outfits for the summer, I have summer skirts, a dress or two but no tops. All of my shirts are summer inappropriate. My shoes less so but they're still lacking and I only own one acceptable pair of shorts, and their white, and I'm messy.

So my broke, summer-clothesless self is mending the thigh holes in hopes that, instead of buying new versions of clothes I already have, I can buy new things to spice up the entire wardrobe... Ann Taylor has some wide leg jeans, I'd like to try, only $98.

Thunder Thighs

I've got awesome legs. Short chubby awesome legs. I'm not claiming they're perfect, they'll never be asked to grace a runway or be asked to model shoes. My legs are my very one little thing and not conventionally attractive.

Today I was at the gym making my legs wonderful and was super frustrated with them. No, not my legs I supposed, rather I was frustrated with my shorts which kept grabbing my thighs and restricting my range of motion. I mean really shorts why must you stick to my legs so?

So to fix my short issues I'm going to plea with the people who make athletic shorts.

Dear Athletic Short Makers

Would you be so kind to make your leg opening in your shorts just a bit bigger?

Thanks!
Thunder Thighs

That Dress Doesn't Make You Look Like a Giant Tubular Barney

Oh, no, my bad, it does. But the good news is it doesn't make you look fat because you can't see your waist or your hips. Because seeing my waist which is ten or eleven inches smaller than my bust (no lie, my friends) would make me look like a tub of lard covered in bacon fat and smeared with potato starch. I'm not saying I'm a thin lady but I am saying that the maxi dress I tried on at work and disliked because it was shapeless and floor length got the gay sales lead's approval for the "can't see your waist or hips" reasoning.

I don't expect all gays to know anything about fashion but this fella claims he went to FIT. And I know, when he tells customers this I usually tell them I went to FIT as well . I didn't, just in case you didn't know that already. But I do know (sometimes) what looks good on and what doesn't. So when I say "it's comfy but I think I look fat plus there isn't enough boob room," don't tell me its a good look. Also don't say that its the dress that the very large chick that can't wear human sized clothes could try after saying this dress is, kind of, a poor way to say it looks good on me.

Mistake!

Today I made the worst possible foax pas whilst working at the good old Ann Taylor. Being that I am a suburban white 20-something (don't hold it against me) I didn't know that fur coats were acceptable to wear with a valor sweat suit and F-Uggs. But boo on me for asking if it was real.

You should have seen this woman's face. Also she was pissed when I mentioned she should stay put while I went to retrieve my gallon of red paint.

I've seen fur coats before and being that I lean a bit liberal I wouldn't wear one but seeing as I am tolerant I think it is alright for the elderly, Europeans and people attending the Opera to wear fur coats. A jaunt through the good old outlet mall does not warrant an excuse to kill animals (nor does being a fashionably challenged vice-principal for my middle school, I know that mink doesn't become a vest after being hit by cars in tragic accidents but nice try.)

Next time I'll just punch the not-so-polite-word-for-a-woman in the face because she would have reacted the same way.

I think the full(ish) moon is making me feisty.

Bloody T

For Christmas I got a t-shirt from the beach. I thought this will be perfect for sleeping and lounging and the like because it's a little too big. I have made the mistake of wearing it as PJs twice now, and I don't understand why the shirt just can't be as I want it to be.

As far as appropriate comfort levels and warmth the shirt is a-ok but after sleeping I keep waking up with the same problem, and I have the tendency to exacerbate the problem by not changing out of the shirt right away.

At first touch the shirt feels fine, while it's not terribly soft it isn't sandpaper either. But the effect of wearing is similar to sandpaper. Both time I have wore the shirt to bed I have awaken with bloody nips (and now you are just so grossed out you don't know what to do. Sorry dudes can't help you with that one I'm all about over sharing with this one.)

Suffice to say I really have to layer the thing but who wants to be all bound up to sleep and if you haven't noticed it has been unreasonably cold so short-sleeved-ts are out of the question. The biggest problem with this is that until these puppies heal I'll be in constant discomfort cursing the day my mother thought it would be a good idea to buy me a t-shirt.

I would like to know why this isn't a problem with the t-shirts that my sisters wear from the beach. Where is the fairness here?

A Sigh of Something Like Relief

This week isn't shaping up so badly. The shoulder is killing me but it could also be a thousand times worse, I can still use my right arm but am somewhat restricted to how high I can lift things, and my hand keeps shifting from numb to achy, and don't even suggest a visit to an MD. I'll live with a bit of rest, good thing I have this weekend off.

Speaking of the weekend off, I'm going to a college party tomorrow night. I'm not entirely sure what to wear; I have always found this whole trendy/slutty/cute thing to be very elusive. I think it has something to do with having an ample bosom at a young age. I spent forever hiding the girls and now I don't have a damned thing to show them off in. Most of my clothes are for work any way, not that I have a real job the requires real work clothes (Girl Scouts, always prepared for the future that we planned for to come to fruition). I have good shoes for this party. I could wear jeans but the top thing is still a problem. What has happened to my wardrobe?

Also what is with the dry skin thing that happens this time of year? I'm itchy and my itching hand is attached to my bad shoulder by an arm. I'm going to have to gain some dexterity in my left hand if I'm going to survive the next week. I can barely drive my automatic transmission vehicle with just my left hand, maybe they have helping-hand dogs and I can barrow one until I regain full range of motion?