Yes, I know it's Friday and I should be super excited. Yes, I am going away for a lovely weekend with my daughter to the cutest little bed and breakfast. Yes, the weather is warming up and I should be giddy that I don't have to wear a big, thick heavy coat.
BUT
I have nothing to wear!!! Poor Christopher had to watch me try on about fifteen different outfits this morning. Nothing fits or I have worn it to death or I am tired of wearing black - you get the idea. I am NOT my mother's child. I am big - big - big. I am not the quiet, sweet, petite little angelic soul that she was. I am loud, entertaining, fun to be around and LOVE to eat. Now, typically, I can keep my weight at at the 'fluffy' stage (for those Gabriel Iglesias fans) but with my menopause and absolute hatred of exercise - I am nearing the 'DAMN' stage. Well, maybe not that bad but it felt like it this morning! And where the hell are my black socks????
But I made it. Twenty minutes late but I am here. I guess that is half the battle....
Oh Sugar, we both have that fluffy gene. I never could understand my Mother telling your Mother to eat. Who the hell has to be told to eat?
ReplyDeleteI too have nothing to wear, except black. But we are still gorgeous fun women. And don't forget that.