Merry Christmas! You're Fat!

It's a vicious cycle: make money, spend money, make money, spend money. Well, in order to do the making money-part I have to keep up a somewhat respectable look in my workplace which found me finally breaking down and buying some new pants at Target the other day.

This is a big deal folks. I have not bought pants for myself in quite some time, in fact I despise clothing shopping for myself SO much that I avoid it at all costs and usually live off hand-me-downs from friends who shop too much and are weird. I also have very high anxiety issues with crowds and being in situations where I am unsure of the mapping. I need to know exactly where to go, down to the exact location of the clothing rack where my particularly needed pants will be. GPS that shit! I need to run in and run out like some sort of Clothes Ninja! The same applies to shopping for baked goods. Or I just wanted an excuse to use "Cookie Ninja!" in the blog.

Anyway, so a good friend of mine offered to go with me (because I lack the ability to do most things alone...oh...and I do not have a vehicle in which to transport myself to Anxiety Hell). The neighborhood Target was, in my mind, unusually crowded and busy. I quickly retreated into my safe zone which consists of me gripping the shopping cart with all my might and singing a medley of Diana Ross songs to myself until everything is okay. It works. Try it. I suggest starting with "Chain Reaction", "Why Do Fools Fall in Love?", and then a torch-worthy "Theme From Mahogany"...anyway, I'll save the rest for my Anxiety Cure Book (Coming Soon?).

My thoughts starting racing:
"Why is it so busy???" Did they know you were going to be here??? Are they here to laugh while you try to find the pants rack??? Maybe everyone in Memphis just had to pickup a few things and this is a happy accident running into me like this! Lucky them, I need to find someone to laugh at soon! How about that guy? The one trying to hold up shirts to his chest AND eat a food court pretzel at the same time? Yeah! Him!...Nah, I'm just jealous of his pretzel"

...that went on for at least 9 aisles as I randomly threw things in the basket just to give a normal vibe off. Then it hit me! This Target had just re-opened after having some major exciting construction! Everyone is here to check it out! I was pleased with my revelation and immediately thought, "people are easily amused and kinda dumb" when my friend turns to me and says, "You do know it's Christmas time right?".

Oh.
Yeah.
Duh.

Finally...the pants! It was a mad house of old ladies in the men's clothing section yelling things to each other like "I'm pretty sure Charlie is still a Husky!" as Charlie pretended to look at white socks. Charlie, I remember those days of my mom saying "Where is the Husky section for my Husky child who will surely never suffer a 4 year eating disorder and get dangerously thin because I like to use the word Husky so loudly and very often" (I did but as this blog points out, I'm over all that now...and no, I'm not blaming my mother).

Oh yeah...the pants! I was sure of my size but just to be EXTRA sure and to avoid ever ever EVER having to walk into a fitting room and prolong my time in this hell, I went a size up and reassured myself that wearing a belt will remedy any extra room. Yay! Pants purchased. Breathing normal. Home in time to get ready for work.

As I start to pull my already-a-size-too-big pants over my legs I notice we are running out of stretch way too early. Hmm? Maybe they're bound and I have to release all the extra room. Tug-tug-tug. Nothing. Well, obviously my undergarments (which included long johns cuz it's damn cold) are too thick. Remedied. Going commando in my new pants will bond us quicker. Tug-tug-tug. Hmm.

At this point, I'm starting to break a sweat. My #1 hated thing at Christmas time. Especially because of pants. So i do the laying on the bed trick. I get the pants up to my panting stomach and just as the button and button loop are about to make sweet love with each other...something hits me in the eye. I immediately thought it was the button and we were done for. I would have to call in to work "too fat for pants". Nope, not the button. Even better. The zipper had broken loose of its zip line and tried to blind me. I don't blame it, I would want out of that situation as well. I apologize zipper, my crotch is not a great way to get acquainted.

No zipper. No pants. No self-esteem. I WENT UP A SIZE DAMMIT!

I went to work that night with my old torn pants on. I stuffed my face with lard and have since given the pants to the cat...they will fit her soon if she keeps eating like that.

Conclusion: If anyone buys me clothes for Christmas, you will have to go up 2 sizes! And then I will kill you. Hide your children because this year I will be PANTS-LESS FOR CHRISTMAS!