Operation Swimsuit

I've been in desperate need of a new swimsuit for a little while now.  On Monday, I put on my big girl pants and went swimsuit shopping all by myself.  It was miserable.  It seemed that my only options were to bare everything or look I was entering a convent--neither of those options were exactly appealing.  On top of that I'm convinced that swimsuit shopping is the way that Satan has designed to make women who are already insecure feel even worse about themselves.  I ended up crying in 3 different dressing rooms, found nothing, and I pinched my finger in a door.  When I met up with my brother afterward, I could barely contain myself.

I was hesitant to go back, but I still didn't have a swimsuit which just seems sinful as a Floridian.  So today I went out again but I was PREPARED!  Last night, one of the girls from the camp where I work gave me a few nice notes.  On the envelope, she told me not to open one until I needed a pick-me-up.  I read one before I even walked into a shop, just to help me start on a good note (yes, that's a bit pathetic. no, I don't have qualms about admitting it on the Internet). 

The note completely made my day.  I smiled, walked into a store, and ended up buying the first suit I tried on.  And it felt good.

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