Moods lifting as the snow is melting.

Spring has come to Iowa. Finally. There are still snow piles in the shadows and parking lots, affirming my belief that my daughters will be able to wear boots on Easter Sunday if they felt the need. It’s nice to not bundle everyone up just to run an errand. My mood is definitely changed. It’s tied to the weather. It’s good to air everyone out. It’s good that the days are lighter, longer, brighter.

I washed all my Lane Bryant bras. And cracked one out today. Maybe I should try them on in the store. The ones I actually intend to purchase. See, it turns out that of the bras I bought was mislabled on the hanger. Because, in my haste to get my stuff and get out before running into someone I know, I didn’t look at the actual bra before buying it. I? Am a 40DD. Okay, I’m a DDD on the side that Amelia still nurses on but I always buy DDs. (Sidenote: I am considering a breast reduction but they don’t cause any documented medical problems…yet) The bra that I brought home? A 36C.

First of all, since when is 36C considered plus size? Secondly, why didn’t I realize that the 2 bras that got washed in the same load and put on the rack to dry were so very, very different in shape and length? And third, I’m a product of my own phobia. But had Lane Bryant had the xanax lick in the dressing room like was dangled in front of me like a mouse in front of a boa, maybe I would have calmed down enough to realize my mistake.

We leave on Friday morning for O-town. I finally got the production schedule this morning and it’s a touch easier than I thought. It’s alot of thumb-in-ass time but at least they have wireless internet on stage so I can write and check in and shop to my heart’s content, all while earning a decent wage and keeping my foot in the door of the theatre industry all at the same time. I thought I’d never go back. I thought that was just a sorted part of my past. But I’m really kind of excited to see if I can still do it and see if I’m still good at it. I quit working because I thought I lost my edge. I’m not tough enough to play with the boys. I can’t pretend that I know what I’m doing. But I miss it. I really do. And, now that I’m on the verge of doing it all over again, I can’t wait. I just never thought I’d go back.

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