Some weeks, I really do struggle with just being an adult. This week was one of them. And my drama was all thanks to my bra.
Well, also thanks to the fact that I had a merry Christmas and treated the summer season like one endless buffet. I ate and drank every day with reckless abandon.
Fruit mince pies for breakfast. Baileys with ice cream for a treat at night. Bubbles, chocolate, toasted cheese sandwiches for snacks. Bacon and eggs for brunch. On white bread. It was deliriously delicious.
And then I had to go back to gym this week and stupidly jumped on the scales to see I have put on 5kg. Hmphh! How rude!
Men seem to be able to eat and drink and not go up a jeans size. But many of us women only have to smell a good cheese platter and our thighs expand. I am one of those women. So, the only thing for it was to go back to the gym and try to eat healthy food. Yawn. Exercise does not come easily to me. I have told you many times my favourite thing in the world is to go to the air-conditioned movies and eat popcorn and choc top ice creams.
Day 1 of gym and my sports bra just would not fit. It had shrunk. Or perhaps my womanly curves had expanded. At 5am, when I was already sleepy and grumpy, I tried to struggle with the damn bra. Putting on an over-shoulder boulder holder is akin to getting ratchet straps around your car load. Making those eyes and hooks meet each other and stay in place is as difficult as securing a wiggling toddler into a car seat.
Anyway, I did the job and shuffled off to gym. But when I stretched up to do some sort of exercise on a machine with weights, my bra flung open at the back. And it all went south from there. Literally. Only half the hooks were done up and they were not strong enough to keep my bust tied down.
I was wearing one of those oversized singlets that shows plenty of side boob without a good sports bra doing its job. At my age, I do not have side boob so much as belly button boobs. So, there was only one thing for it: I made a dash for the door and told the instructor I had possibly left the iron on at home. I clocked his confused face. I retreated straight home for a comfort meal of pancakes and syrup and did the only sensible thing: I threw the sports bras out and ordered bigger sizes.