For the sake of domestic peace, I finally cleaned out my closet. I don't want to burden Annabelle Rama anymore as she had enough by merely raising five (5) big kids and one grade schooler.
While cleaning, I find it alarming that I'm scourging my closet of five (5) jeans. Reason? They don't fit me anymore. I've gained an inch or two or maybe three for two years. Apparently my fitting problems stem from my slow metabolism. That's what happens when you're hitting 30. Darn.
So long farewell, my jeans!
I think it's high time to fret about my waistline. The pair of jeans on top was only a year old and it won't zip anymore. I had to struggle zipping the buttons over a two-inch gap called flabs. Oh my.
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