I'm sitting at my desk. Work, work, type type. But I can't breath. I've sneakily (or so I thought) undone the top button of my denims. (or so I thought). Skinny Miss M caught me, but I think she only shared my pain.
It was five minutes of jumping this morning - A whole five minutes - no exaggerating. I had to ask the boyfriend, who loves my new found thickness (no matter how miserable and unattractive it makes me feel)- to grab hold of my belt *buckles* (for a lack of the actual word) and pull upwards, while I repeatedly jumped, jumped, jumped... so I could get these thick thick thick thighs into those tight tight tight jeans. Barely over my bottom, with my zip refusing to fight the good fight, against gravity and new found wideness... I had myunderwear out in that hip-hop, street-thug, low riding jeans way - so NOT my Modus Operandi, so not sexy and also missing the necessary looseness required for bending, going up stairs, spreading legs wide apart etc etc... I guess no need to really spread the legs apart though.... God forbid I have to jump over a puddle!!
I hear you - get new jeans. THESE ARE NEW JEANS.
It's happening... fat is overtaking my body.
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