As I have been living out of a suitcase for the past 2 months, I haven't carried around all my clothes. Obviously. So I've been packing around a few pairs of jeans and left the others at my apartment. In packing up my clothes to bring to Michael's, I have rediscovered all my other billion pairs of jeans. Seriously, how many jeans does one person need? As I can't own jeans and have them go to waste, I have been wearing the other lonely jeans in for the past two days.
Yesterday as I was leaving Michael's (soon to just be called "home") in the morning, a random though popped into my head saying "There's something funny about the legs of these pants." But Michael was sleeping and I was already out the door. So I just left. When I got to work, I looked dow and sure enough, I remembered exactly WHY I didn't tow these particular pants around. The last time I wore them, I noticed that the bottom hem was ripped and hanging. I stepped on the hem to rip off part of it, and it did more than that. It ripped off the whole bottom and then ripped up the leg a bit. So I walked around yesterday with a severe case of pants that looked like bell-bottom floods.
(Not mine below)
Back to my butt. The seam in the back is off. You know what I'm talking about- the seam that is supposed to go up the crack. It's off. It's more on one cheek than in the middle. And it bothers me. It's not like it's a big deal. Unless someone is doing a careful examination of my butt, they wouldn't even notice. But I do.
My point is- moving is a good thing as it forces you to get rid of the junk and crap and pants that you don't wear for a reason. And a giant box of stuffed animals that have no memories attached to them. Not even one small memory.....