Pants and Carrots

Well, this is embarrassing.

I look like I'm 45 years old today.
That is a 23 year differential from my current age.

Normally, I'm stylin'. I usually aim to sport a youthful appearance, whether it be by sprightly shoes, a cray-cray-adorbs skirt, or a chic top or dress.

But today I awoke, and it was a frightful 69 degrees in the house.
I had already decided that I was going to wear brown pants today because I wanted to wear my new, nice, comfortable brown booties.

Now about these brown pants.
I bought them because:
1. They fit
2. They were $2
3. They are wide leg
4. They were brown and my old brown pants were too tight

Unlike other pants made in the 21st century, these pants close at the waist. It's like they're high-waisted pants without even trying to be fashionably high-waisted. Like old lady pants.

My school of thought was that I'll just wear things that cover my waist so I don't look like Bill from the post office at Georgia Southern.
But somehow, this charade does not mask the facade.

It's weird when you wear underwear that's not granny panties with granny pants. Because then you have like two different waistlines going on.
It's weirder still that 'charade' and 'facade' both end in 'ade' and are pronounced completely different.

To quote Mike, "These pants don't even make your butt look good."

But wear them I did.

Since it was cold, I pulled a sweater set from my closet that I haven't worn in a while.
A sweater set. Like- why do I even own things like this?!?!?!?
I guess it was because of the color. I'm a sucker for orange things. Even carrots. We're going to talk about carrots in a little while.

And I like to take apart the sweater set and wear the orange pieces with different things. So, yeah, normally I don't wear sweater sets because there's just something about wearing a color on top of another color that makes you look about 30 years your senior.

Sweater sets and calf length skirts.
Stay away, my friends.

So I went to the bathroom to change clothes, and I put on this orange sweater set over a white collared shirt while wearing the granny pants.
I looked 55.
I took off the cardigan.
I looked 45.
This cardigan virtually added 10 years to my face.

NAGL

And for some reason, I thought that was good enough and proceeded to go to work looking like a middle-aged mother of four that drives a suburban, subscribes to Family Circle and gets a mani-pedi every six weeks. The more time goes on today, the more self-conscious I become.

Never again.
I would rather go without brown pants than look like this.

So let's talk about baby carrots.
I formally enjoyed baby carrots with my packed lunch every day. But then these bags of baby carrots I bought became excessively saturated with water, which made the carrots slimy and taste like toad juice.
So then I switched to the big, whole carrots which are both:
a. cheaper
b. sweeter-tasting (in my opinion)

But my, oh my, how they are so inconveniently shaped! You have to wash them, then you have to peel them, and then you cut them, and since they are so honkin' big at the ends, it's impossible to get nice, uniform carrot sticks. You get some, nice carrot sticks, and then other chopped up bits of carrot.
Big carrots are so annoying. Unless you are making a salad.

Or a snowman.

Since I finally finished my five pound bag of carrots yesterday (it took me 2 months), I decided to take a leap of faith and buy some baby carrots again on the off chance that they won't be slimy and taste like toad juice.

Unfortunately, this story does not have an ending like you thought it would.
I was just talking about carrots.

I'm going to go home and dress like a 13 year old to make up for all my iniquities today,
TWS