It's been awhile, and in that while I have reverted to my old shopping-frenzied self. I'm not proud. Maybe a little proud...but only for the sale items! I had a disturbing meltdown a few days ago when I thought I had misplaced my favorite pair of jeans (and while we're being honest, one of the only 3 pairs of jeans I own). Scoured the apartment, my car, anywhere they could possibly me. Nothing. Meltdown. These are $45 jeans from American Eagle that don't even fit me that well anymore because I've forgotten the meanings of words like "gym" and "self control over food", but it felt sorta life shattering. I'm unexplainable. This past wednesday (about a week after the on-start of said denimgate) I was at my dance class and decided to ask if anyone had found them. LO AND BEHOLD, there they were crinkled into a drawer...along with my belt...and a pair of shorts...with another belt...and a sports bra. What the fuck, I left ALL my shit here. Much relief passed through my body until one thing settle upon me--how did I get home without pants?
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