Some days I make the right choices. I woke up to a windchill of -42. I looked in my closet at what I had planned to wear. Strangely, other than going with a thicker, taller sock than I had planned (black knee high socks as opposed to pantyhose socklets), I stuck with the outfit. Good choice on Friday
When I got to work, I took off my toque, and rather than looking in the mirror with disgust at how my hair had unstyled itself under it's pressure, I ran my fingers through it and it fell back into place. Definitely right choice on the haircut.
I was starting to wonder about my choice of matching yellow and purple. However, after getting a strange look (and overhearing said person making a snide comment later about it), I knew I'd made the right choice. Yes, that's right, I take insults as affirmations that I'm dressing right... usually only when I question that person's fashion choices in my head.
I got into the Quill and while it was definitely warmer inside the building than outside, I wanted to cuddle up close to my computer. Despite not having brought a change of clothes, as per usual, today's "Business outfit" was comfortable enough to sit on my feet as I typed next to the radiator.
Both of us feeling too lazy to go home and make supper, Scott and I decided to Wok Box it (take out style!), I thought "ugh! I'm going to wish I was in my sweats to I could eat the whole serving and NOT feel like my pants shrunk", I realized I'd made the right choice on the pants - perfect amount of give.
And when Scott decided that he needed a relaxation night to help him get over his cold I thought "I should have brought a change of clothes" I realized I'm wearing my most comfy dress pants, and a sweater, I can definitely be all cuddle up in blankets in this!
However, while the outfit may have been perfect for everything, they do have one short coming. Since Scott was sit, I refused to get any closer to him than the distance from his foot to his head... in other words, I sat chatting with him at the foot of the bed. I forget how we got onto the subject, but I said if he did something, I'd break his foot. He said if I broke his foot, he'd kick me in the crotch. I pretended break his foot, so he went to kick me... and connected with nothing but pant.
Ah yes, after 7 years of avoiding the "give away" box, these oh so very comfy pants may have met their demise. It seems that I either need to grow a couple inches or gain 20 pounds to get the rise to sit where it's supposed to (for the record, they did fit when I got them... your choice which direction I shrunk!!).
In any event, I think they'll go into the "alter pile" in the hope I can fix that in order to keep these fabulously comfortable pants.