Today one of my clients said that I'm "thick as cold grits." And there was general agreement.
It was meant as a compliment, but it's not exactly what I wanted to hear after dragging my tired, lazy bones out of bed this morning to work out.
I went to a yoga/pilates class at 9:15, and afterward I was feeling so zen and great about life that I made a grievous error: I went to shop for yoga pants. I should clarify that while I'm a generally tiny person, I have the hips and posterior of a much larger, more African woman. And I think those hips may be the reason why yoga doesn't come from Africa. They don't make pants for hips like this. Of course I had to try on twelve pairs to realize it, and then I came home and cried over the cats' breakfast that I can't work out because I'm too fat to work out -- which of course was ridiculous. I meant too "thick."
Oh sweetie (was going to call you honeybuns, but thought that might be inappropriate at the moment), I almost fell off of my chair laughing when I read this. Sounds like the Erkert ass - to quote A. Janie - is getting the better of you. you're gorgeous you know. do yoga naked at home if you can't find any pants. ;)
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