Tag: jeans

Northern Lights

Apparently you could see the Northern Lights from near my house last night. Did I look outside? Nope. I was simultaneously watching what is arguably the greatest movie ever made, The Godfather, and watching my hockey team get smoked for the second playoff game in a row.

Insert the sound of a frustrated sigh here.

The plan for my immediate future is to go to a department store to buy some clothing for our upcoming Florida trip. I don’t like wearing shorts. I’m a jeans guy. Khakis work in a pinch, but I feel most comfortable, the most like me, in jeans. I don’t own a pair of shorts. The last time I bought shorts for myself was also in preparation for a trip to Florida, but at that time I weighed about 240 pounds more than I weigh today. I need to go buy me some Florida-weather-appropriate garments. Blah.

I might go shopping for a bird feeder that doesn’t suck too, but that would require making two stops and I don’t think I have that in me today. We’ll see.

I missed the Northern Lights. What a puke head. Ugh. Dumbass.

Tough Morning So Far

I went to sleep really late last night. It was almost 1:00am. I slept for less than six hours and it was pretty crummy quality. I got out of bed a little before 7:00am and started my 30 minute exercise only to have to stop after 10 minutes because we had an air conditioner tech coming out to service our central air and our mini-split. He left just as I was starting work so it didn’t interfere with anything in a problematic way, it just messed with my routine. At least I was able to put the laundry away and do the dishes and setup the PlayStation 4 in the rearranged living room. There will be surround sound Rush blu rays spinning in the near future.

My stomach is a bit of a mess today. I was short on my protein counts yesterday so about an hour before I went to bed I had about an ounce of peanuts to get myself over the 60 gram goal. I finished over an hour before I conked out for the night, but my stomach still feels off. Maybe peanuts late at night is a bad idea. I did eat some scrambled eggs for breakfast this morning and boy am I gassy now. The burps are seismic. Let’s keep an eye on this today, shall we?

Speaking of Rush, today would have been Neil Peart’s 70th birthday. His brother asked fans to wear Rush t-shirts today in his memory. I am partaking, but should I need to join a conference call with a customer I’ll change into a collared shirt.

On the topics of weight loss and collared shirts, I bought some new clothes on Saturday. Two office appropriate shirts and two pairs of jeans. The shirts are one “X” size smaller than what I bought pre-surgery. The jeans are four inches smaller on the waist than the last time I bought jeans, and eight inches smaller than what I was wearing pre-surgery. I’m wearing new jeans right now and boy does it feel nice to wear clothes that fit. Oh, yes.

Okay, back to work. Talk to you later, kids.

Clown Costume

I only own two pairs of pants right now. One was in the laundry waiting for the next wash and the other was on me. Then I took out the trash. The trash bag had some really, seriously, major league gross semi-liquid something in it that just so happened to leak onto my jeans. Gross.

I am supposed to leave to visit my mother in 90 minutes. What to do?

I took the jeans that were in the hamper and put them into the washing machine on quick-wash mode. 25 minutes and they’ll be cleaner. Clean completely? Maybe. Clean-ish? Yeah, sure. Quick wash time plus a round in the dryer means they should be finished at just about the time I need to leave.

The freshly grossed jeans will go into the washing machine on the heavy duty wash setting because ick. That needs to wait for the quickie to finish first though. So what do I do while I wait for the quickie wash/dry to finish?

When I was bagging up all of my too-big clothes to donate somewhere, Jen suggested I save one pair of jeans. That way a year from now I can put them on and see how big they look and we can all have a good laugh. That sounded like a plan.

I am wearing that pair of jeans right now. They are probably 5-6 sizes too big. I feel like a hobbo. I look like a clown. It’s pretty funny today, just think of how funny I will look in nine more months.

I’m pretty sad about the whole gross experience though so I just threw on some Rush (Signals, to be precise) to cheer me up. It’s working.

You move me
You move me
With your buildings and your eyes
Autumn woods and winter skies
You move me
You move me
Open sea and city lights
Busy streets and dizzy heights
You call me
You call me

Packing List Fail

I mentioned recently that I ripped the hell out of one of my pairs of jeans the other day and had to order some new clothes. I ordered a couple of pairs of jeans and a few shirts. I got a delivery message that same day with a delivery date of today. Nice.

Today I noticed that a second pair of jeans is also ripped to shit. At this point in the story please note that I rarely buy clothes and the two ripped jeans are probably 3-4 years old. I think it’s been that long since I resupplied.

Well that sucks, but at least the post office will be delivering two new pairs of pants today, right? Good timing, I guess.

That’s what I thought at least. The postman brought me a package today and it was very small. Way too small for two pairs of pants and a few shirts. Small enough that it actually held one shirt. The hell?

I checked the delivery email again. Big letters: DELIVERED, then a link to one of the shirts I ordered. Then in small letters: Processing, then links to everything else. Oh you sonofabitch. I just suck at reading. Really, I am just not that good at life.

I guess I am down to one pair of jeans now. Unless of course the third pair is also ripped and I just haven’t noticed. How much do you want to bet on that?