Currently there are only two pairs of jeans that I own that I can fit into comfortably.

Both were sitting in the bottom of the washing machine this morning. And both were wet.

Not having the time to dry them before heading into work, and even with it being “Casual Dress” day today, I declined donning a pair of pajama bottoms and tried to make a good choice from a bad selection of my other jeans that were too small.

Now while I sit here at work I am overwhelmed by the sensation that my jeans are attempting to not only strangle me at the waist, but that they will at some stage in the near future succeed in splitting me in half.

Its a shame that (having closed my office door so that I could at least unbutton them for some modicum of comfort), its unlikely that anyone will be around to witness my upper torso finally popping off from my lower and careening around the room before coming to rest in a bloody mess.

I guess it serves me right for not staggering my jean wearing so that such a clothing debacle wouldn’t occur. Oh yeah, and for being fat.

I currently liken sitting down to Dante’s journey through hell, as it is quite an adventure. As is trying to access my wallet which is currently embedded in my rear right pocket and I am sure will become a part of the very fabric of the jeans in the next hour or so, having been assimilated by sheer pressure.

Walking is somewhat amusing as well. Well, I imagine it would be if you were to see me. Personally, it’s not that funny. I walk gingerly and kind of stiltedly, like a cowboy that has been in the saddle for a week too long.

Lets hope that not too much irreparable damage is done before I can get out of these things. Besides the popping in two, that is.

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