Friday, September 30, 2011
These are not my pants. Or they are. I just don't know anymore!
I had an absolutely wonderful day today. I had two classes that I enjoy and was done for the day by lunchtime (hooray for leftover hamburger helper! I won’t tell you the flavor. I'm mysterious like that.)
However, throughout my whole day I couldn’t shake an ominous, uncomfortable feeling. The feeling that I was wearing someone else’s pants.
It is important to note that these were, in fact, my pants. Allegedly. Let me explain. I own one pair of black jeans, which I haven’t worn in a while because 1) it was hot and 2) pants are for chumps. But last night I had painted my nails metallic silver (partially to feel like female wolverine), so I decided to wear my long-neglected black jeans to go with it.
As soon as I put them on I became extremely confused. They didn’t feel the same way as I remembered them. Don’t get me wrong, they fit me perfectly and were extremely comfortable. But they didn’t feel the way I had expected.
A normal person probably would have said to themselves, “you just haven’t worn them in a while. Obviously they are your pants. You’ve already spent more time than is acceptable thinking about this.”
But that’s not what I thought. What I thought was, “the stitching is totally different. No, wait, maybe not. Oh god, who’s pants could these possibly be? Did anyone come to my house and leave their pants behind? Do I even have any friends with the exact same pant size? These are definitely slightly shorter.”
And so, the Case of the Foreign Pants put a cloud of confusion over my otherwise sublime day. Yet, I got the distinct feeling that the others around me did not find this issue quite so puzzling.
Me: So, I don’t think these are my pants. I mean, I have pants like them, but these don’t seem like those ones.
Roommate: Yeah…those are probably your pants though.
Me: But…they don’t FEEL right. I mean they feel fine. Better than the other pants actually. Maybe there is some sort of pants-improvement-gnome that goes around very slightly altering your pants just to drive you crazy.
Roommate: Maybe. But probably not.
And then she left the apartment. I don't know if she's coming back.
My mom’s response to my very long pants-related diatribe when I called her was to tell me to put it on my blog. I think just so SHE didn’t have to be the one to listen to me about it anymore.
…But seriously, those pants are definitely different. Maybe.