I swore I was going tell you that I hurt my shoulder doing yardwork, but I’m a sucker for a cheap laugh. Here’s what really happened.

I was at Ross yesterday (who doesn’t love a good discount) and ended up in the juniors dress section. You might say, Kristin, you’re 28, you’re no longer a “junior”, and to that I say “Eff off, those little tarts can’t have all the fun.” The problem w/ the juniors section is that the sizes are totally wonky. It’ll say 8, but really be a 4 in human sizes. Or you’ll get an 11 to try and compensate, and it really WILL be an 11 so it’s too big. You have to hold it up and hope for the best when you try it on. I grabbed 6 or 7 dresses and hit the fitting room (Quick side note - ladies, I just discovered there are juniors DRESSES in the back w/ all the old lady dresses and overcoats, and they’re awesome. Awesome I tell you). The very first dress I go to try on is a “Medium Petite” and the size looks fine. There are no zippers or buttons, it’s a pull over the head type thing. No sooner do I get it over my head, do I feel a searing pain in the top of my left shoulder. Searing. Blinding. My breath catches in my throat and I start to see stars. My shoulder is seizing, a charlie horse type thing, and there’s nothing I can do but ride the wave. Oh my god, the pain. Beads of sweat break out on my forehead, I’m suddenly burning hot. I feel like I’m having a hot flash. I realize that if I don’t sit down, I’m going to pass out. I’m in a dressing room at Ross with a dress over my head, but still bunched up around my arm pits because I never got it all the way on. I sit down and put my head on my knees and started breathing as focused as I could (because that’s what they tell you to do if you’re about to pass out, and damned if it doesn’t help). The poor woman next to me must have thought I was going into labor.

About 3-4 minutes later it finally passed and I was left w/ the predicament of how to get the dress off. I got out eventually (clearly, as I’m not still there), but it was a very slow, very careful process.

So there you have it, injury by dress shopping. Lest I forget the perils of trying on clothes too small for me, there’s a nickel sized knot in my shoulder to remind me. Men all over (at least the ones I’ve told or who are reading this) are laughing, laughing, laughing. Have your fun. The day you pull a muscle lifting a power tool, I’ll get mine.