I have discovered something worse than shopping for jeans.
I have discovered something worse than shopping for swimsuits.
Last night, I spent roughly 4 hours cleaning out my closet. Oh, yes. That is worse than getting in miniature spandex in a 4 x 4 room with nothing but you, a mirror and really bad fluorescent light.
Don’t believe me?
Oh. I’m sorry. Are we not appreciating the trauma here?
Today I am giving these jeans to a much thinner than me stranger. (Who I will mentally curse and give a cute nickname like stupid skinny twat lady stranger.)
And if that’s not tragic enough…
I rest my case.