Aren't freshly-laundered clothes supposed to be a little tight? Or at least, not a size bigger than they were a week ago? After all the car drama this weekend (it's not over yet, of course), I have placed the household on a strict, no-fun, no-frills budget. (In case you're wondering, wine is an essential ... but we're going to be drinking mostly Two-Buck-Chuck for a while. No more $6.49 extravagances. And by we, I mean me.)
It seems my black dress pants did not get the memo about the budgetary lockdown. Clothes are certainly a frill. So, it would stand to reason of course, that my black dress pants seemed so extra-roomy today. Honestly. I kept thinking my zipper was down all day because there is so much extra space in these damn pants. Oh well. They're work clothes. I am not trying to impress anyone there. Even with my baggy pants, I dress better than most of them. I suppose I'll be wearing my skirts more now. Also, they're dress pants. I'm sure I can shrink them by washing them in hot water and drying them, right? There is plenty of room in the legs, so I'm safe with trying to shrink them.
Side note: Have you ever known anyone to complain so damn much about the side effects of losing weight? What the fuck is wrong with me? Other than I hate shopping and spending money on clothes, I mean.
Other things of note:
I didn't realize how fucking guilty I felt about driving every day for work. God, I felt so much better on the bus and LRT today. It just feels right. That is so sad, isn't it? It'll only be a matter of days before my lack of guilt transforms into self-righteousness about energy policy and whatnot. Oh, who am I kidding? That'll probably kick in full bore tomorrow.
Plus, I haven't had many good bus stories for a while. I've only been getting honked at and hollered at while waiting for a bus to take me to a drinking location. Oh, and there was the guy who made kissy noises at me and Girl Shawn on the 4th of July.
Walking around Lake Calhoun today I saw a guy I've seen several times before. I remember him because of his tattoo -- it looks like a piece of broccoli. But it can't be a broccoli floret, can it? Hey, I like broccoli as much as the next person, but not enough to get its likeness tattooed on my shoulder. Maybe it's a tree? If you can't determine what it is, though, it's a pretty shitty tattoo. My fiduciary difficulties are going to put my tattoo on ice for a while. And I was just getting ready to talk to my artist about a design. DAMMIT.
I also saw a guy wearing the most hideous tie-dyed Lithuania basketball t-shirt. Okay, I get the Lithuania basketball t-shirt. I even kinda get the tie-dye. What I don't get is the combination of the two.
My unfocused anxiety from earlier today is gone. I've got something of a plan with the car. I've gone to and from work on public transportation and realized it's no more difficult than most of my other trips. And it doesn't take much longer to go more than nine miles than it did to go about five to my old job. It is a bigger pain in the ass getting home. Of course. But I realized today that it won't be the end of the world to have to wait a half hour for the next easy route home. Shit. I've been staying late most days, anyway. Is it that big of a deal if I get home at 5:35 or 5:55? Not really.