World inside my head...

Something strange happened today. A girl in my department wore a dress. That wasn't the strange thing. She looked very cute. She is also trying to lose weight and is doing the Biggest Loser contest at work with me. Another lady in our department commented on how pretty she looked and she just smiled and said, "I'm trying to stay motivated." And I thought, "Hm. There's an idea. Wearing nice clothes to motivate you to lose weight." I always dress horribly and my hair is always a mess because I don't really feel worth it. And I feel like it would be pointless anyway because no amount of mousse or eyeliner or dresses will ever make me look pretty. It's like putting lipstick on a pig. I told them that I don't wear dresses because I just feel like a man in drag. My boss busted out laughing and said, "You are not manly! You are very feminine." I almost fell out of my chair. I don't think anyone in the history of ever has ever called me feminine. My husband swears he's told me this before but he claims I just don't remember. I don't remember it.

I had to go shopping today to find a nice top and some nice trouser jeans. I had a meeting at work on a Friday, which is casual day, but I didn't want to be too casual for this meeting. Instead of going last night knowing full well that I would need the extra time, I put it off 'til tonight. Big mistake. I went to Lane Bryant and tried on a few things. I even tried on a dress, just for the fun of it. I had no intentions of buying it, but I just wanted to see what a dress looked like on me since I haven't worn one since my wedding day. Wow, that was a big mistake. Not only did I look like a linebacker in a purple dress, but it was definitely not the right dress for me. I looked like Grimace, the old purple McDonald's character. Yikes. I found some trouser jeans that were ok but unfortunately, they didn't have my size. I needed an 18. I had tried on the 20 and they were just too baggy on me. They had a 16 and a 22. Great. I tried on some other pants and shirts but I was pretty much in between sizes on everything. I tried on 14/16, 18/20, 16 and 18. I wasn't a 14/16, an 18/20, a 16 or an 18. I was too big or too small for everything. I was sitting on the bench in my shirt and underwear staring at all of the lumpy fat piled up on the creaking wood, wondering, "What happened to me? How did I let myself get like this?" Feeling discouraged, I ran over to Target. I knew their clothes were always too crappy but I was getting desperate. I found some trouser jeans that I thought would work ok. Then I went to Cato. My husband went with me and was so ready to get out of the store that he kept telling me that everything looked fine, just so we could get out of there. Not very helpful. I grabbed a handful of tops and headed to the dreaded dressing room. Same problem as before. In between sizes. As I tried on one of the tops, I popped a button right off and it shot across the dressing room plinking off of the door before finally settling on the ground. I wanted to die. I just knew that the other lady in the dressing room knew exactly what had just happened. I didn't really pop it off because I was too fat. I pulled it over my head without unbuttoning enough buttons. But still, that doesn't matter when you're fat. Blowing a button is blowing a button. I was in that stupid store forever. My eyes were brimming with tears and my husband was following me around trying to convince me that everything looked fine. I finally settled on a top and got the hell out of there. I just wanted to throw up. I sat in the car staring out the window wondering again, "What the hell happened to me?"