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This Isn't Even Funny
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This whole suit thing isn't even funny anymore. At first I just assumed that for some bizarre reason the people who make clothes think that fat people would never work in a job that required anything nicer than a paper hat. But after today, I'm starting to think that this suit dilemma is just one large cosmic joke against my fat ass. Which by the way has taken a large self esteem toll on me as well.

I've been to nutrition counselers and after keeping strict diets and food diaries and still continuing to gain weight they finally found that the reason for my weight gain was the god damn steroids I have to take every day. Apparently my metabolism is around 500-800 depending on my daily exercise (a normal woman is around 1800-2000 and to lose weight they recommend 1500). That's a fucking joke. After this ordeal, I've decided that it's time to no longer eat. A can of Slim Fast is around 200 calories. If I have one or two of those a day and nothing else maybe I can at least get to the weight that I was at before Gabriel and fit into the suits I had in law school. Knowing my body, I'll still gain.

I don't care if I'm skinny or have the type of body considered to be beautiful, I just want to be able to outfit myself in proper work clothes like everyone else can do. Is that too god damn much to ask?

So, today we headed to The Avenue to see if they had any suits. I checked online and it looked as if they might be very promising. Of course, when we get to the store and look around they don't have much of a choice, not nearly what their online selection was. They had two that could work, but none in my size. There was a Catherine's nearby and I decided to check there on the off chance that they had stock that the Catherine's near me didn't have.

I look around and they do have suits in petite that are okay. Kind of "old fat lady" ugly suits, but any port in a storm, right? Well, they only carry their petites up to a 26. Fine for pants, not a chance for across my gianormous boobs. I look around some more and find two rather ugly ones (dark purple and vomit brown) that are in a 28. Not petite, so they would need to be altered, but still. Not the best suits for interviews, but I don't have a choice. I'm about to try on the suits when the power goes out. They need to get everyone out of the store at that point. This is when I realize that this must be some big cosmic joke against me. I mean really, how absolutely fucked up is this??? I'll probably check back there again or see if I can find something online.

Yet another dilemma comes up now. Even if I do find something online, how do I know if their size will run true and I won't need to send it back for smaller pants or a larger jacket? I'll also need to get it tailored so I don't have excess fabric hanging on the ground because I'm short. I need something and I need it in two weeks for my swearing in ceremony. No suit means I don't get sworn in and that's the only ceremony there is. Not getting sworn in means the bar results are null and void. This is so sad, I'm more stressed out over some god damn clothes than I was over the bar. This is how fucked up my life is. I wish I knew someone who could make me a fucking suit.

To make matters worse, I got some bad news from my Mom today. Her back is getting worse and she's getting pains down her legs. One of her legs is going numb and she now needs two canes to walk. Can't someone in my family (or my friends or anyone I care about for that matter) just get a break for once? 2007 is the year that the universe decided to take one large dump.

When we got back to our area we made a stop at Toys R Us to get Gabriel a bead maze toy. Tonight we watched America's Next Top Model (I'm currently rooting for the girl with autism) and Kitchen Nightmares. Rob gave Gabriel his bath. Now it's time for me to curl up in a corner and cry.


Your Halloween Costume Should Be

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