I wore my pyjamas to the store.
I know, right?
I’m not talking about cute little Lululemon yoga pants or fancy pants little shorty shorts, I mean I wore baby blue sweatpants in public.
I just know the girl at the store was judging me too. Oh I saw the way she gave me the once over. From my flip-flops that showcase my chipped red toenail polish (I have a pedicure scheduled tomorrow – swearsies!) up my AE clad legs, to my white hoodie, disheveled ponytail and the box of KD I sheepishly put on the counter.
I may as well have bought kitty litter, ice cream and twinkies and stamped a giant “Single Girl!” stamp on my forehead.
We all know it’s only downhill from here. Next thing you know I’ll be at the welfare office in a ketchup stained wife-beater waiting in line to collect stamps for free toilet paper and icing sugar.
Then again, who doesn’t like a little free TP?