I hate fitting rooms.

It’s scarier than Insidious, more terrifying than Paranormal Activity, and far, far worse than the Exorcist.

It’s…bathing suit season. 

It’s February, I know.  Why should anyone be thinking of bathing suit season?  And with Girl Scout Cookie season in full swing, no less.  What are we, masochists?

Knowing hot weather is on the horizon is bad enough, but knowing that you don’t have three months left to diet, you only have one...that will slap the taste of Thin Mints right out of your mouth.

Here’s another thing that will turn that cookie taste to sawdust—actually taking two or three suits in your size into a tiny, yet horrifyingly bright fitting room with an excessive (I feel) number of mirrors.  

Oh wait, you just THINK they’re your size.  After squeezing, pouring, and contorting your body into one of them, you stare into the mirror, out of breath, and think to yourself, did the cottage cheese miss my mouth and stick to my thighs?  Did I misread the size on the tag?

Perhaps if I had eaten more cottage cheese, I wouldn’t be so scared of being alone in the fitting room with spandex.

Today my oldest daughter and I went to Plato’s Closet knowing they had scads of beautiful sundresses…just perfect for the warm weather and sunny beaches of the Riviera Maya…at prices just perfect for the budget.

This is actually Puerta Vallarta, but you get the idea.

I carefully chose 9 different swirly sundresses, certain that they would be perfect.  I tried on each one of them and, as a kindness to you, my friends; I will spare you the sordid details…suffice to say that out of the 9, I bought one.  And even that one is iffy…I kept the receipt. 

Let’s not even talk about the bathing suits.  I need one more week of dieting and perhaps some sort of sedative before I will even think of trying on bathing suits.

Before I do, though, I will grab a fresh cup of coffee study the floor plans of different department stores and figure out who’s got the fitting rooms with the fewest mirrors and the dimmest lights.

And nothing goes better with a fresh cup of coffee than a shortbread cookie.