After articulating my lament for my favorite black jeans yesterday, I wallowed in my melancholy by scrubbing my filthy bath tub; therapeutic and masochistic. This motif continued, as, after intermittently doing some ab and thigh exercises I discovered online, in between cycles of hosing down my shower with noxious and potentially transiently mind-altering chemicals, I decided to try on a few summer items, namely my white denim pants. The result was pleasantly surprising. The fit was not bad. Despite a decadent winter season and a recent gauntlet of work-related stress, generally two culprits of weight gain, I could wiggle my way in. Their length is ridiculous, and from necessity, they are more specifically my cropped white jeans, but, this was a misfortune that was evident when they were first removed from the plastic packaging. Ultimately, once my visceral and initial disappointment subsided,I decided cropped jeans, while being a bit suburban-mom, are quite versatile. My conclusions were thus: first, it may be worth the money to pay someone to scrub my shower for me; second, with just a few more repetitions of what are surely pathetic-looking attempts at following along with personal trainers, I can be mostly ready for warm temperatures. Feeling triumphant, a success, muscles tingling and shower sort of clean, I immediately ate some cheap chocolate. The ever titillating evenings of single professional young women.
(image taken from The Pursuit Aesthetic)