owlectomy

Sewing up my pants in a bathroom stall is not my preferred option.

I was at the gym, and as I was changing clothes and getting ready to leave, I noticed that my jeans--my one pair of jeans, the pants I've worn more days than not in the last 18 months--had developed a giant gaping tear just under the back pocket. Low enough so that my jacket didn't cover it up, not low enough that anyone could think it was a legitimate fashion choice.

Luckily, I managed to evade comment as I dashed to the student store for a sewing kit. And it looks fine now--you probably wouldn't notice the seam unless you were up close and actually looking for it. And if you were up close, you might think it looked funky in a punk DIY way, or then again you might think I'm not very good at sewing.

I am not on speaking terms with the universe today. Rar. I need pants.

I shouldn't have told my mother that I was going to try to pay my own living expenses from now on (excepting rent). It might have left me with a little money to buy pants...