I can't believe I'm actually going to write this down for the world to see, but honestly, it's too funny/shameful not to share.
Y'all, I split my jeans as I was getting out of the car last night.
Yes. I'm of course blaming the dryer (which I don't even use to dry my jeans) but for now it's the only thing that can naturally be at fault because, well, clearly the blame actually lies with me.
Here's the full story: Yes. I put on some weight over the holidays. Blah blah blah. New Years Resolutions. Blah blah blah. I have been, but need to continue, getting my butt to the gym to work it off. Yesterday when I was getting ready to head to class, I threw on my skinny jeans (so I could wear my adorable purple Hunter rain boots since it was a darn mess outside.)
As I was putting them on, they were super tight. Like, even the "stretch the jeans out dance cause they're a little tight from the laundry" dance wasn't working. Said dance, for me, includes some lunges, a few hip circles and a high kick or two. I encourage you to also share your jean stretch dance...
Fast forward a few hours. I ran a couple errands which included getting in and out of the car several times (in the rain, ugh) and then I arrived on campus to score, hello, the best parking spot ever. Muy importante because it can be a little sketchy area and at night I like to be in a safe spot.
So, what do you do when you park the car? Turn the engine off. Open the door. Place left foot outside on ground. Right? Well as soon as my left foot was on the ground and I started to get out, I heard a rip and felt a chilly breeze on my left inner thigh.
Omg. Did I just rip my jeans?
Yes. Yes you did Mrs. B.
Cue total mortification and panic as to whether anything would be exposed with said rip. All was clear but I was, shall we say, not in a good state of mind to be heading to a three hour class. As in, crying my face off and laughing all the same time like any crazy woman would do.
Mr. B. called me right before class started so I proceed to recant the entire story for him. To be fair, I was laughing and crying too, but I was not at all prepared for the full hearted belly-laugh that I, on any other occassion, love. But this time it was not.funny.at.all. I needed a hug.
All you need to know is that after class, I zoomed straight home and put on a pair of PJ pants which I knew would fit (and not split?) and watched Sofia Vergara on Modern Family. #selfconfidencefail.
It's business as usual today at the gym, but you better believe when I hit the wall and want to stop, I have that lovely little image of ripped jeans to keep me going.