So in this picture on the side you can see the burn on my body, from a grill pan. I am not sure at this point if that is my butt or my hip. The lower quadrant of my hip seems to have merged with the upper quadrant of my ass and now it's all just kind of one. I did put on a lot of weight this year, plus middle age spread and voila - hip-ass. What you can't see in this pic are the indentations from my too tight uniform. Uniform is awful at the best of times but on here it is spectacular. I am sporting jeggings. The high waisted kind. Seriously. And anyone who knows me knows that I hate my legs. So jeggings? Please no. And it's not that I hate my legs so much but I hate them on me. They would better suit somebody who is a premier rugby player. Sébastien Chabal for example. I can identify - with his physique. Not only that but the burn is pretty low on my body, I am of average height & the counter height is normal but I was able to burn at that level (the grill was on the hob) due to my height enhancing footwear. Crocs. I swore up & down I would never ever wear them. I don't care how comfortable they are. But I am and to compound the fug they are purple with flowers. I give in. I have lost all esteem. I even had this conversation with myself:
Self: Well are they comfortable?
At the end of the day I must admit I feel like I am wearing pyjama's all the time (the stretchy fab of the jeg, the airiness of the croc), and I think that was one of the reasons my youngest sister gave for becoming a nurse. scrubs = pyjamas. She was onto something there. Oh and did I mention? They aren't even real Crocs. They are Frocs.