This morning I was feeling down and couldn't quite place the feeling. Work has been pretty hectic, the weather has been shitastically cold, and the big 2-7 is looming on the horizon - all factors collaborating towards the production of an unfavorably nasty mood for yours truly. So, like any good little aging hipster, I set off for the mall to purchase a new pair of skinny jeans and roll my eyes at the teenagers congregating in the food court while simultaneously envying their care free existences and unconventional dye jobs.
While I am happy to say that I did locate the desired skinnys (at Pac Sun because I am secretly 12), I also managed to purchase a few pairs of sensible work pants - ie: SLACKS. It's a sad day when retail therapy involves the purchasing of slacks. Even sadder is the fact that I actually enjoyed the purchasing of said pants and when I got home proceeded to try them on for the lady who also says they are quite fetching.
Damn we're old.
Silver linings:
1. Upon recognizing the name of my employer on my sweet work-issued fleece, the employee at Express said, "Oh! The ________ School! What grade are you in?!"
2. I also bought these on the off chance that I might be caught in a dance off against a 7th grader.
They were on sale, I swear.
