Life man...

There is a Laibach song that says “ life is life” they certainly have it right on that one. So the last eek or two I’ve been hanging on precariously to the sliver of mental stability I have. I realized I needed a living time out when I started cursing the bathroom floor and wondering aloud why boys don’t notice they missed the bowl. Usually I just roll my eyes and clean it up, one of the “perks” of slavery but I was straight ready to fight about it. So I spent several days in bed.

When I’m like that not only do I hibernate I don’t get shit done. Dishes weren’t washed, laundry piled up to unreasonable amounts, food was minimal and definitely no talking. Just vegged away on short stories and picture taking. My ex says he knows taking pictures is my go to destresser so he was worried about me given how much I was posting on the gram. Since I actually enjoy taking and editing pictures I’m going to have to remember to do it when I’m not a hairs breath away from a breakdown.

Speaking of hair, I totally was, mine is giving me fits. The growth I have no complaints about as it’s coming along nicely and much lighter since the layers were cut and the front shortened. What is driving me crazy is how thin it’s gotten in the front a bit on the sides and a smidge right at the very top of my head. I’m hoping it was a stress reaction and when I start back on my b vitamins it will grow in. Curling it often seems to help keep it happy. I washed it this morning and this is what I was working with after it dried.

So pretty happy with it all in all.

Now that I’m standing there in my bra reminds me of an incident yesterday. I went into a bra shop to get measured. The woman told me I measured a 36b with the air of someone who is confident in their skills. So she brings me this bra even after I mention I’ve never been able to wear a 36 band, too loose. She insists that she is right so I try it on. It was a hot mess. The cups were way too small, boob bubble to the extreme and every time I moved the band rose up pinching the underside of my boobs. So I politely asked if I could try’s 34dd which is what I was wearing. It fit perfectly, cups full but not bubbling and the band sat in the right spot without moving no matter what manner of bending or leaning I did. Now one would think at this point the lady would at least express confusion on how a measurement was so off but no. Even though she herself had disdained the other bra and acknowledgemened that the current bra fit great she insisted that my true size was 36b. Now I may be crazy but whatever happened to making a decision based on the evidence on hand and re-evaluating said decision when new evidence shows it to be than previously thought. Nope ok girl was having none of that, she was ready to fight me about my true size and when I pointed out that I was more comfy in the larger cupped bra she rather condensdingly admitted I was the customer and had to do what felt right but wasted no opportunity to again let me know I should have fit the 34b. As if I can command my boobs to accommodate her measurements. I didn’t buy anything from that shady lady. The insistence on being right despite evidence to the contrary is a wee bit stronger in some than others, lol. 

Now finally I’m getting sleepy. Bout time as it is nearly 2am and I did not nap today.