I just finished typing a 22 page report. It's 12:40 AM.

After work I dropped by the mall. I'm looking for an outfit to wear to a wedding. I'm trying to be frugal about the whole thing, looking for something simple.

So there I was, miserable [my left impacted wisdom tooth is acting up], when I found the perfect outfit. I picked out the usual sizes that fit me and went on my merry way to mirror land. I really enjoyed the top half of the outfit. I squealed in delight amd proceeded to dress myself in the bottom half.

I learned a new thing today.

Just because I look small, doesn't mean I am.

The size 2 dress size I normally wear, well, it isn't normal anymore. I couldn't fit the thing past my thighs and each time I attempted to pull the thing higher, I heard a slight tear.

Ooops.

I let the bottom half cling to my fat ass and looked at myself in the mirror.

"WOOOOWEEEE, you needa exercize, girl."

I couldn't believe what I saw when I undressed. I am NASSS T.

For those of you who want motivation to exercize, just lock yourself in a well lit dressing room with a four way mirror. In fact, I urge you to add an addition to your house resembling that of a clothing store dressing room. You will see every nook and cranny you never new existed, and then some.

I couldn't find the size I was looking for so there was no purchase. I bitched myself out for being such a petite looking, fatass. Though no sooner did those words leave my mouth did I utter:

Ooh Cinnabon!

And yes, I ate my minibun without shame.

The hunt for October wedding outfit, continues.