Pity parties and clothes shopping.

I seem to be heading into another pity-party-period. I think it was the clothes shopping over the weekend that set it off. There’s nothing that ruins a person’s self-image like cruising the maternity section of a department store for clothes when you aren’t pregnant. Except perhaps cruising the maternity section of a department store for clothes, only to find they don’t fit.

Nothing fits now. I’ve purchased elastic-waistband slacks that would under ordinary circumstances be several sizes too large for me. I left normal circumstances behind in July though. I wear my pants like an old short-waisted man, pulled up completely over my abdomen to nearly my ribcage. And still the elastic cuts in mercilessly after a few hours of wear. My shirts no longer button after the topmost two or three buttons are fastened. I wear oversized t-shirts (not tucked in) with open flannel shirts over top, to hide the bulge. At least, I thought I was hiding the bulge, until I walked past a very reflective glass display case at work this morning. I look OK head on, but seen from the side I resemble nothing so much as some bloated dead thing, about ready to explode. Stand back! And don’t light any open flames in the area, just in case. I almost wish I would burst and relieve some of this pressure.

OK, got that out of my system. In spite of my little self-perception problem, the weekend went well. Dinner out with my friend from IT and his wife was a lot of fun; even The Socialist had a good time. Don’t believe Outback Steakhouse when they tell you that they’re call-ahead seating is an improvement on their old system of booking no reservations and waiting three hours for a table though. We called ahead for a table at 3:00 that afternoon. We wanted a table at 5:30. They told us that they wouldn’t be able to accommodate us until 6:00 or so (they’re cagey about giving actual times). We didn’t actually get seated until well after 7:00. OK … that was an improvement over people who tried to walk in, since they were told the wait would be three and a half hours! You’d think there wasn’t anywhere else to eat in the neighborhood. Or that they were giving away steaks. (Believe me, neither was the case Saturday night.)

After dinner we went over to their house and played Uno, a game I hadn’t played since my teens. The first two hands went quickly, but the third hand …. That third hand of Uno lasted for over two hours. It was well past midnight by the time that hand ended, so we called it a game. I was exhausted, and the Socialist drove us home. I slept until nearly eleven the next morning, and it felt *good*.

My workplace is a very busy scene of concerned people at the moment. While it doesn’t directly impact on my position, the one thing my company has tried to prevent more than any other thing has come close to happening. My department is caught up in events, my boss has been inundated with phone calls, and many of my co-workers have had to drop everything to attend to this latest problem. This will be a good week for me to start cutting my days shorter and come in as late as possible. My assistance is not needed for the current crisis, and I probably want to stay as far away from it as possible.