The other day as O was cramming as much dirt as he could possibly get away with into his rain boots, I was transfixed by a woman wearing an outfit that was executed so perfectly I went to bed thinking about it. This is a poor approximation but the outfit involved a camel colored sweater hitting the waist not too high and not too low, a simple belt, black jeans that were fitted but not tight and hemmed just high enough to show some really simple brown ankle booties. Nothing fancy, but everything perfectly fit. I'm so impatient to lose this baby weight and feel attractive that I didn't want to forget that hopefully someday I'll be able to fit into a perfect outfit again. So far it's yoga pants and, when I'm feeling fancy, 501s with holes in the knees. After a few weekends spent busting boots in attempts to fit them over my calves and shattering my self esteem in the process, I did at least finally find some perfectly fitting perfectly beautiful boots.
Oh, and p.s., I take back all that positivity a few days ago. I'm sick of stray hairs getting caught in my eyelashes and toothbrush and fork. Hang in there guys, please. There's room enough for everyone. And our hot water heater is out. Grrrrrr.
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