I am currently having some sort of emotional episode. Let’s go back to the beginning of my day.
This morning was my final exam of the semester. Instead of anxiety or stress, I felt calm. I was just ready for the two hours to be over.
Then, halfway through the exam the problems became more difficult. I was able to finish with only ten minutes of the allotted time left. Annoyed, I texted my friends and went to the bookstore to return my rented textbook, ready to be done with the subject altogether.
I got home and became even more angry with the day, because I remembered that I had to return two pairs of work pants.
Here’s that back story: These are the second round of work pants I have been through in three months. I bought two pairs a few months ago, and the double seam (yes, right down the ass) began to split. On both pairs. So, I returned them and found two pairs of what I thought to be a better brand. Same damn thing has happened, and I haven’t even washed them yet.
So, as tears of frustration filled my eyes, I did what normal emotional women do. I made chocolate chip pancakes and watched two episodes of Grey’s Anatomy.
Two hours ago, I left for the store, in a better mood. Although, I was not happy with how greasy my hair looked, I did just wash it yesterday.
I returned the pants and began looking for new ones, examining seams and leg lengths. I require shorter pants. I looked in the junior’s, petite’s, and women’s sections.
Two trips to the dressing room and my head felt heavy.
I stood–holding back tears and wiping my nose–in the confined space staring at the five pairs of pants, hoping one would magically fulfill my needs.
I told myself to calm down, go across the street to the mall and look at a few more places. Unfortunately, my frustration become worse as I thought about my stupidity, crying in the dressing room. I cried the entire drive home.
Now, as I type this, I am no longer crying, but am very upset with myself. Still no work pants for the rest of the week.