As I was getting dressed this morning, I resolved to go to the gym at least 3x this week. What prompted this rush of workout fervor? No, it's not a New Year's resolution. That's only for communists and Oprah fans. I put on some pants that I haven't worn in a couple of months and they were tight on me. I assumed they shrunk from the uhhh humidity at my place, but my vain metrosexual gene kicked in and I decided that humidity or not, I could stand to lose a few pounds.
Well, I didn't work quickly enough...I sat down at the office with my coffee and chocolate muffin and while I was stuffing my fat face, the unimaginable happened. Yep.
I split my freakin' pants. This is some sorta' karmic lesson about calling my brother "fat ninja".
Now I gotta' sneak out and walk 10 blocks to the nearest store that actually sells mens clothes and buy some trousers before I get fired for indecent exposure.
(actually, there is a Burberry store about 8 blocks away, but I don't feel like spending $400 on a pair of pants.)
Yesterday was my birthday, so I guess this is the universe's gift to me. I always knew the universe was a practical joker.