Goodbye, Ann. It was a good run

I cleaned out my closet today. It was kind of like a trip to the jungle: untamed, things landing on your head, views of things you've only read about.

Like dust bunnies the size of your head. Or silk boxers.

It has been a while, so my business suits were a little dated. The suit that the Man and I referred to as "The Matrix Suit" due to its floor-length coat tails HAD to go. Not optional. It was borderline-dated when I bought it, but I have a thing for anything floor-length. Or black. I think it's the Muu-muu effect: I think I look thinner when I pile more clothing upon to myself. The shimmery gray suit had to go, too. It was ugly in the first place, but, wowowow, it made me look skinny.

Skinny beats Ugly any day in my world.

The hardest part of The Purge was my Ann Taylor suits. I weigh a mere 5 pounds more than I did before having Mini and Monkey, but, even after the Mom Job, the bod just ain't the same. The flab is flabbier. The fat is...well, fattier. Those beautiful Ann Taylor suits cost me a minor fortune (and looked FABULOUS with my 4-inch heels that are now a size too small post-kids...but that's another post altogether) and I know that I'll never be able to wear them again....unless I pull a Heidi Montag (which, post MJ, I get how it happens...after all, you don't notice the carpet looks like crap until you paint the walls). No matter what I do, I can't make my ass fit into those suits.

Throw in the fact that business suits have no place in my current lifestyle and the fact that I still have them is all-the-more absurd. I wear workout gear, jeans and yoga pants all the time. I even sleep in sports bras...and every last one of these things is covered in some form of kid-goo.

As much as I have fought to accept my new life that involves Dinosaur Train and wiping three-fourths off the butts that live in this house, I have not been able to give up those suits. After all, I was going back to work, right? (RIGHT?!) Today I reached a sort of understanding with myself: I AM (!!!!!!) going back to work, but I don't want any job that will require me to wear those suits--or any other--again.

So, with a heavy heart, I say "Ann, it's not you. It's me. We can still see each other from time to time...perhaps on Clearance, or Shoes and Accessories. But our paths are not One. I will remember our time together fondly. Goodbye."