Yep, I did it. And I'm gonna do it again so I can get to 30 pounds lost.I don't mean to brag but I rock, y'all.
The other day I was in a fancy meeting with all these big time people but since I'm a writer I like to dress super cas (as in casual) even though I'm usually so nervous I want to throw up or have diarrhea.
So anyway, I bust out THE JEANS. "The jeans" are the jeans in the next size down that didn't fit that I bought hoping they would one day fit, even though I swore I would stop buying jeans in next size down that would one day fit but do not fit right now.
But they were so cute!
Dark denim.
They were on sale for only twenty dollars!
C'mon. I can resist a donut but I cannot resist cute, dark denim on sale jeans for twenty dollars.
I try them on for my meeting. They will not zip. I lay on the bed, I lay on the floor. Nope, they ain't zipping.
Okay, I have a plan. I drive to the meeting with unzipped jeans on. During the twenty minute drive to the big fancy meeting, the jeans will probably stretch.
They will HAVE to stretch! Dear God, I hope they stretch.
I pull into the valet and he watches me curiously as I am jumping up and down and trying to zip my unzippable jeans.
I get them up on the third try! Yay! Now it's just the button that will not button. I can keep them unbuttoned but then it looks like I am smuggling something under my shirt. Not good. I bust a move for the ladies room.
It's there that I get the button of the jeans buttoned. Problem: I am now restricting blood flow from the top half of my body to the bottom half.
I decide it's totally worth it because I look good. Fifteen pounds lighter in a size smaller jean. AMEN!!!
I am sitting with the super important people and this is the part where you make small talk but all I can think about it how I am probably going to pass out and then they will have to call an ambulance and then a fireman will come and have to cut me out of these jeans.
I'm asked by one of the very important people, "So what's new with you?" I couldn't speak, I didn't know what to say... I couldn't think of anything funny, witty or charming when the only thing I could see is a swarm of executives watching me being cut out of my jeans and revealing the giant grannie panties I bought in a six pack at Target.
So I say: "Um... I went on a diet and lost fifteen pounds and thought I could wear the next size jeans down and basically I'm just sitting in these super tight jeans waiting to pass out and then have to be emergency air lifted out of here."
The whole room cracked up laughing.
I won them over. I did not die. I looked super cute for the whole hour. I was confident, composed, attentive.
And at the end of it, I smiled, I said my goodbyes and then I ran like hell to my car, unbuttoned my jeans in the parking garage and drove home.
If you like this post, send it to a bunch of friends by using the little envelope icon below. When you do, men will chase you down the street and invite you out for shrimp cocktails.
This blog is dedicated to just doing it.
