pants.

A couple of things: my goal, in terms of career, for the past few years has been to be an occupational therapist specializing in children, meaning I would mostly work with children with disabilities, ranging from physical to developmental. Anyway... lately I have been considering being a child psychologist or psychiatrist instead. I have time and I am taking all the right classes for both anyway, so I don't have to decide or anything.

But... okay so I have essentially diagnosed myself with depression, social anxiety, and a specific phobia (of jeans). I am attempting to tackle the latter two with a treatment plan I have laid out. Basically... I am going to make myself wear the two pairs of jeans that don't thrust me into a (major) panic attack at least 3 times a week. Also, Erica and I are going to go shopping for high-waisted jeans (I have very big, child-bearing hips. They are bigger than the rest of my already overly large body.) so that I don't freak out about love handles or muffin tops or anything else unsightly. Or at least so that I don't freak out about them for a good reason.

So basically I am pretending to be a clinician with myself. And I am wearing black jeans. Erica says they are slimming and I look good. I don't believe her. That's okay. Baby steps.