squished.

Well hello pre-pregnancy pants! It has been nearly a year and a half since you fit properly! I expected this to be a happy reunion. My plan was to have things back to normal before I went back to work. I would get back into the hospital drag that I wore before this wee experiment in drastic physical and life change, and continue residency where I left off. My life would be back, my body would be back, and my brain would be well-rested and filled with medical knowledge.

I did not anticipate that, even in this small town, you would now fall below even my low (low) standards for fashion. You were supposed to see me through the remainder of my training, until you fell from my fatigued and emaciated frame in tatters -- allowing me to be a real doctor in more comfortable clothing. I feel betrayed.

Now I need to face all manner of discomfort.

Ugh. Shopping.

And all that other stuff about how my body is never going to be the same as it was before I was pregnant. How much I have forgotten this past year. How I have aged. How I am just as mortal as everyone else. Regardless of whether I smoke/drink/ avoid exercise/refuse to comply with treatment, I am still going to die. And I am still going to have to find new pants.

I shake my fist at the gods of fashion.