I bought pants for the occasion, in my normal size, which made me feel pretty good about myself. No shame in admitting I strutted around my kitchen this morning and gave myself a little pat on the back.
Then I went in to my office. I was getting all the news I've missed in the last three months. They repaved the street, a couple of colleagues were married, oh and she had a baby.
Wait, what? She was pregnant? The same time I waddled though the halls and moaned to the masses she was rocking skinny jeans and not saying a word? We were due weeks apart? And she was back to work the next week? Well done much younger, fitter co-worker. And by well done I mean, can we trade genetics?
My pants no longer seem all that special. I did not strut post work.
But hey, they repaved the street!
And look at these feet! I get to come home to these feet!
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