I just bought something. Five somethings, actually. I don’t feel great about it and I am not looking to justify it, but honesty is important and I am not perfect.
I know how close I am to being “done”, but this was not a purchase that could wait. Not even 12 days.
(I’m going to talk about undergarments now, so if that’s not your deal, then thanks for showing up. The next one will be about something different, I promise.)
A few months ago, in the midst of the Longest Winter Ever, I decided I was going to take myself to Walt Disney World for my birthday. This trip was not cheap and not necessary. It was also not against the rules, and I can think of no better place to spend my 35th birthday than in the Magic Kingdom, so I regret nothing.
My birthday, unfortunately, is at the end of August, which is hot and humid lots of places, especially Central Florida. Those who’ve been following along will know that I have rid myself of a good deal of clothing in the past year, leaving me with few choices that are appropriate for both theme parks and stupid hot weather. It’s mostly dresses.
Some of you can probably see where this is going.
If I’m going to walk for ten miles a day, in 35-degree weather, in a dress, then I need a little help in the foundation garment department.
I would love for this not to be the case. I would love to have lost a bunch more weight by now and not have my thighs trying to kill each other under my skirt. This was my plan! Progress in this area has been slower than expected, although I have turned something of a corner and I plan to share my thoughts on this at some future date.
I did a pre-pack of my luggage last night, and discovered that I also own zero suitable bras for this trip. I own enough for normal life, but none that I could wear all day in that heat and not risk some kind of severe skin irritation.
It was at this point that I decided that purity of purpose was not more important than avoidance of actual physical pain, so I went to Walmart and I bought three stretchy, comfy bras and a two-pack of boy shorts. It was $50 (argh).
This was a clear rule-break. It was not an accident. I am not going to make excuses for it. I chose physical comfort over (nearly) perfect abstinence and I would do it again.
This is how much I cry at Disney when I’m wearing shorts:
Just kidding. That’s right after my brother-in-law proposed to my sister DURING THE FIREWORKS. He’s laughing at me pretty good right there.