In the past 18 hours I’ve had 6 cups of coffee and two diet cokes and I can feel that caffeine level starting to slide as my eyeballs are getting that spiral effect seen in hypnotised cartoon characters. Fortunately I’m not caffeine sensitive so none of the shakes or anything.
I did go to bed in the end. leaving the essay unfinished. I decided to give up when I was spending more time with my head in my hands curled up in a ball on the chair than looking at the screen contemplating what to write next. TIt was 6.45am when the Sous Chef got up. I crawled, fully clothed into the warm bit on his side of the bed and fell alseep instantly.
I woke up refreshed and rested and realised I must have overslept for work. The street-sounds were not early morning sounds and I was fresh as a daisy but I don’t wear a watch and there is no clock in the bedroom so I went find my phone to assess the damage of my oversleeping. Noon, perhaps?. Hmmm. I was shivering with cold and needed to shake the rocks out of my head but otherwise was wide awake. I checked my phone: 8.15. okay, I’d been asleep 90 minutes. That was a powernap then.
So I ran a hot shower (to stop me shivering) and got myself to work only to find the object of my disdain wasn’t in. He and bullied colleague had been in the office until 2am sorting out stats, since bullied is away on annual leave now, and so he had decided to take the morning off to recover. Fair enough I say, but he’s making himself look an idiot when he tells everyone how tired he is and did he mention he’d been up since 2am? Everyone in the room knows (but isn’t saying) that I was up until past dawn and I still made it into work early (although of course his late night was work related and lie-in entirely justified, whereas my all-nighter is my own affair)
Trouser shopping. Hands up who enjoys trouser shopping. Hmm thought as much. Well when you’re the freako pearshape that I am, you hate it even more because no one makes trousers that don’t make you look like you have chicken drumsticks for legs. (They are rather chicken drumsticky but I don’t want trousers that advertise this fact)
But I am in need of zip-off trousers for taking with me when I cycle the length of Germany later this month.
Field and Trek and Millets were my first attempts. After trying on at least 12 pairs of women’s trousers, I had worked out that I am in fact a size 12 and three quarters. Twelves were a bit snug for cycling in but the 14s seemed to be made multi-purpose with built-in parachute in the area where the fly is and the crotches hung low while the hems swung at ankle height. Who, exactly, are these trousers made for?! I have this mental image of short-legged big-bellied women in garment factories, adapting the patterns to what they think a normal shape is.
Having gone through the women’s selection I started on the men’s trousers. I seem to be a 32″ on a man’s trousers and these did seem to fit better (at least in leg length) but still I found my mirror image to be too awful to look at for too long. At the first few you blame the cut but after trousers number 20 you start to blame your figure and think yourself the freak. Why, it’s almost enough to make me want to eat less and exercise more!*
After an hour I gave up and went back to the office. Back home, I fell into the arms of Gorgeous Landlord and lamented to him how hard a day I had had, trying on trousers after trousers (I even tried on some shorts and a skort that had me laughing until I cried – or was it the other way around?)
He commiserated as much as he could, but he’d just bought three pairs off the internet, all of which fit nicely. He had spent about 2 minutes of some simple mouse-clicking and got what he needed. I went upstairs and tried on his nicest pair.
THEY FIT!
and look better than any other I had tried that day. You spend an hour trying on men and women’s trousers and begin to lose the will to live. Then you try on the first pair that are sitting around at home and they are good enough you’d buy them.
so today I am heading shopwards to get meself a pair – men’s zip off trews in dark grey with a bazillion pockets and zips in all manner of places.
*what, and give up cake? Don’t be daft. And anyway – I’ve been stick-thin before and I end up just being a thinner version of the same shape and I still couldn’t find trousers to fit
