5 Weeks yo, that is how long I have been living my life in sweat pants and yoga pants.
Since the day before the surgery I have not put on a single pair of jeans. At first its was understandable…abdominal surgery, swelling, general feeling of discomfort. Jeans were a no go.
When I went back to work I was grateful for that fact that I work in such a low-key environment and that they didn’t care that I was wearing yoga pants everyday. As long as I was wearing my required work t-shirt and didn’t look completely homeless, it didn’t really matter.
5 weeks later, I’m starting to run out of excuses.
Last week the excuse was that I had broken out in a completely horrible skin rash around all 3 of my incisions and I didn’t want to irritate them further by having the waist band of jeans rubbing against them all day.
Now I’m just starting to look silly.
Every time I step out of the house in my sweat / yoga pants I think about how my sister-in-law told me that my brother called her white trash if she left the house in sweat pants, no matter how much juicy was stamped across her rear end. To be clear – my brother is stupid. Really, I love him, but seriously? Vain and judgmental much?
The older I get the less vain I become. I used to never leave the house without my hair perfectly flat-ironed and makeup expertly applied. I wouldn’t dream of being out in public with my hair tousled and without mascara. AS IF! (Clueless was the best movie ever, don’t deny it.)
Now a days I’m lucky if I get makeup put on at least one of the days during the weekend. Okay I still fix my hair and makeup for work, but the amount of makeup I wear has gone down considerably. On the weekends I throw on a loose t-shirt, brush my hair so at least it looks like it’s not threatening to become the next medusa, and throw some moisturizer on my face. I don’t even care who sees me. They can deal with it.
I can’t decided if this is a good thing or not.
I mean obviously I am at least comfortable enough in my own skin that I don’t care what people think of me, but on the other hand I worry that I’m becoming TOO complacent about my appearance. Maybe J will leave me for a girl who doesn’t walk around the house on a Saturday night with no bra or makeup on and who tells him all about the awkward things going on in her body. So not sexy.
Actually if I am being honest, J is great. He tells me all the time how beautiful I am even if I am not wearing makeup and I am in my sweats. I usually snort in response.
So maybe this week I’ll finally get the motivation to put on some real clothes. I pretty sure all the swelling is gone (I wish I could say that it wasn’t but then I’m just delusional about that fact that poundage around my stomach is actually fat) so I should theoretically be okay to put them on.
Or maybe I’ll just submit myself to the fact that I am way to comfortable in my yoga pants and they will be buried with me. Either or.