The Life of a Procrastinator

I’m procrastinating…..RIGHT NOW!! Oh yea. Is it wrong to use my blog as a way to put stuff off? No, I didn’t think so. Cuz, really I’m doing something!! Just not what I should be doing. 

And I’m not even putting something off I don’t want to do. I got my 3 miles in. Awesome. I uploaded photos from yesterday’s beautiful wedding we attended for our dear friends daughter. (Just as a side note, I still can’t believe she’s old enough to be married! I still remember her as the little girl across the street. I cried many tears yesterday, but they were all happy tears!)

I also bought clothes to wear to the wedding. Clothes that I didn’t wear and need to return. This is where the procrastination kicks in. I have to go to the mall and I really really really don’t want to go back. Ugh! But I have to. I have 4 dresses that need returned. Sigh….

I’ve decided I no longer love to shop for myself. I used to L-O-V-E shopping! I imagined the day where my Richard Gere would hand me an AMEX Black card and get super offended when I told him the saleswomen were mean to me and he would escort me to the stores and insist, no demand, that they suck up to me. Of course, Roy Orbison would be playing on a constant loop as I twirled and giggled and fawned over the beautiful, perfectly fitting outfits the sucking up saleswomen brought for me. 

Yea, so, since THAT isn’t happening, I have to fend for myself. I discovered in this quest to find a dress, a simple freaking dress, that it’s way more difficult than anticipated. First of all, as I told a friend yesterday, I truly believe 95% of all clothes in the stores are separates. Not dresses. Tops and bottoms. Racks and racks. 3 dresses in the whole store. Is it the time of year? Is it that no one wears dresses anymore? I mean, what’s up with that?

Next on the problem list is that I now fall in between sizes. No big deal right? Wrong. Too tight and I look like a stuffed sausage. Too loose and it looks like tent. Not to mention that almost always, it’s guaranteed if I find a dress that I actually like, they won’t have my size. At all. I mean, there’s “too small” and then there’s size 2. Even 3 years AFTER my death, I will not wear a Size 2. 

So then, if I happen to find a dress that is close to my size, I snag it. And I study every flaw I find in my body for approximately 30 minutes. Bulge here. Too much cleavage there. Arm flab there. Sigh…. I yank it over my head, hang it back on the hanger and try the next one on. 

Then I just can’t decide which flaw is more noticeable in which dress. So I get them all. Bring them home, try them all back on again. I twirl. I bend over. I suck in. I try to breathe while sucked in. (Seriously, it’s a talent to be able to do that for long periods of time without passing out). I still can’t decide. Michael gets the final pick because honestly, I’m just exhausted at this point. I’d wear a sack or my sweats. Whatever. I don’t care. 

But now I have to return the 4 dresses that didn’t make the cut. I kept the one I actually wore to the wedding, but the rest are going back. And I’ll be in and out of the car, explaining why I don’t like it. Yes I tried it on before I bought it. Yes, I changed my mind. No, I didn’t wear it. See? Tags still on. SIGH………

But then I think of the money I spent on those 4 dresses and realize I need to get them back to the store. Maybe the laundry needs switching? Dishwasher need unloading? The floors for sure needs sweeping. 

OK, ok…..I’m going……..

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