Maybe I DO like to whine ...

So the fat girl is miserable. I suppose it doesn't help that I think I'm PMSing. I'm irritable and crabby and having big-wigs in the office does not help. Recently we were told there is a new dress code, no jeans being the worst part for me. That's all I have worn for years! So having to go shopping at this size was a horrendous experience for me. I hated every moment of it and hated putting my daughter through it when she was nice enough to come with me.

Well, I bought summer clothes. Capris and thin pants. And suddenly it's fall here. Cool. So I am wearing my black jeans because they are more cool weather pants. Not too much of a big deal, I can stay at my desk as much as possible. But they always bring food in when the bosses are in town. They brought in something and put it in our small cubicle-like break area where there are 4 or 5 of these people sitting around the table about 8 inches from the table that has the food on it.

Number one - my ass is too big to comfortably go in there and get myself a plate of food without bumping at least one of the chairs. Plus, I would have my back to the table where they are eating and I'll be damned if they are going to watch me fill my plate.

Two cubicles behind me is this little skinny thing who eats like a horse and makes nummy noises the whole time. You would think free food was the best thing ever - and she has no qualms about going back for seconds or getting nutty about something that tastes good.

Does anyone look twice at her when she oohs and ahhhs over the food and stuffs her face and then sits there and complains about how full she is? No.

Now if I did the same thing? Somehow it's just not the same thing.

If those bosses were not in there sitting right by the table, and I was wearing something other than jeans, I might, MIGHT go in there and get some food. But as it is - I don't think so.