The day that your fluffy, bloated, period pants…
Simply become YOUR PANTS.
I’d make some heartfelt excuse for the state of my closet, but that’s pretty much the way it’s looked for the past month, so no need for posturing. I think all of you know how I feel about laundry. There’s an order in my choas, y’all…
There just is.
Now, about those pants. You know, I’m finding that the more I agonize over fitting into my wedding dress, the further that number on the scale moves in the wrong direction.
Ok, scale! Look! I don’t care! I’m rising above! This is me rising. Silence whilst I rise.
Act natural, PB.
PS – Oat the Freshly Bathed Amazon Parrot has something she would like to say:
Sorry. She’s a little crass. But seriously. Look! Somebody is actually reading my blog! I know. I don’t get it either. But each person who “shares” it by clicking “share on Facebook” to the right of my goofy trampoline picture gives me a better shot at getting noticed.