this transit strike is making me feel fat.

i had to go buy some new clothes today. i don't have anything else. my entire wardrobe (minus the one change of clothes and a pair of pajamas that i had the foresight to shove into my backpack before i left the house yesterday morning) resides in astoria, new york. for me, this means a earlobe-numbing 4.6 mile walk in the dark on a bridge suspended over the East River.

not gonna happen. so, i've been crashing at friends and will continue to do so until this @#$%!&* strike ends...

this explains why i was forced to go to the Gap at lunch today and try on a few pairs of pants and shirts lest the ones i am currently wearing start developing opposable thumbs and accosting my co-workers.

here's the thing: i don't recommend trying on anything in front of a full-length mirror when

1. you're menstrual

and/or

2. you ate sushi the night before. as you know, sushi is normally accompanied by a sodium-laden condiment called soy sauce that i adore, but causes me to bloat and swell like a...a...a...flesh-colored Michelin man.

ah well...i tried my damnedest to look at myself objectively and not judgmentally:

do the pants fit, margrocks?

yes, but look at that muffin top squish...ohmigod, i think i need a bigger size. i am so fff...

zip it! not what i asked. do the pants fit, margrocks?

yes.

excellent. buy them, and let's get the hell out of here.

so i did.

but still...not a pretty sight in that Gap dressing room.

i guess i could toss myself into the East River and float home.