The Big Date

It's raining outside. Not the perfect date weather. I look in the closet. Nothing to wear. Well, it's raining which means I'll nix the flats and opt for tennis shoes. Tennis shoes go with jeans. Mine are all too big, but I haven't lost enough weight for smaller ones. Don't you hate that? Now a shirt. Oh, how I wish my pinterest closet was real. I pick out a shirt and proceed to the bathroom to shave my armpits, which are turning into a raging forest.

A date with the gynecologist. Yeah, that's right. This should count as some form of adultery. I never quite know how to prepare for this. Do I need to shave my legs, get a bikini wax, or a pedicure for those stirrups. Oh God, I'm glad I'm wearing socks. Should I wear something comfortable in such an uncomfortable place? Should I wear something nice that says I'm a respectable human being? Ugh. My hair. It's raining which means if I wear it down and curled, it will resemble a close relative of Shaggy the Dog by the time I get to the office. Especially since I'm somewhere around 5/6 months post relaxer. I'm going to try the natural thing. That's a whole other post. But seriously, why spend so much time for an appointment that won't even last 10 minutes? And then I've got to go online just to get results after such an up close and personal encounter. How's that for irony?