The wrong trousers

A couple of weeks ago I noticed I needed new jeans.  The one pair I own were becoming very worn to the point that I could almost see through them in some places.  If you’re a large woman, which for your sake I hope you’re not, you’ll know exactly which places I’m talking about.

I hate shopping.  Let me rephrase that; I hate clothes shopping.  Put me in a camera store, an electronics store or even a grocery store and I’m happy as a clam.  Ask me to buy clothes for myself and you may as well be asking me to stick my hand in a blender because both task are excruciatingly painful.

I haven’t had much time to step into a store anyway, so I decided to order a pair of jeans online.  I haven’t exercised since my surgery and my eating habits have been atrocious since then as well, so I figured I’d go and order the largest size jeans they have.  It takes a lot of guts to admit this.  I ordered the largest size jeans from an online store.  For that reason alone I should be getting my fat ass to a Weight Watchers meeting stat.

So the jeans arrived but remained wrapped in their packaging for a couple of days.  I’m a coward when it comes to facing bad news and I was quite sure the jeans were not going to fit.  When I finally opened up the package and tried them on, I found them to be a little loose.  Better too loose than too tight, I say and decided to wear them to work.  What I thought was just a little loose became ridiculously loose as the day progressed.  I was constantly hiking up my pants and was afraid to bend over lest I accidentally moon someone.

I’ve washed and worn the jeans a few times since and I’m sad to say there has been no shrinkage.  Of course I didn’t keep track of the packing slip so now I’m stuck with a pair of ill-fitting jeans that I hope to God will never fit right anyway.  I’m going to have to buy yet another pair before the old ones split or the new ones puddle around my ankles.  Neither of those scenarios would be pretty.