Why doesn't someone just shoot me now?

I went out today and did something no depressed, middle aged woman should have to do...

I went jean shopping. UGH!

I know, I know, all women have problems fitting jeans. Well, we do. Men can just pull their waist size and leg length off the shelf, put them on and voila! They look like a million bucks.

Don't even get me started. I tried on 12 pair... 12 pair only to re-enforce the sad fact that my pant size is one size larger than my skirt size. Why? Because I'm long waisted. The rise on a pair of jeans stops at my hip, not my waist. Even so called high-waisted jeans end two inches below my belly button. This leads to all kinds of fit problems. Finally, I found a pair that sort of looks decent-well, the waist fits-three inches below my belly button. The rest is far from fitted, but since the style is wide legged, it sort of looks okay.

So I bought them... to end the torture of trying on more jeans. Then came home and promptly pulled my sweat pants with the drawstring waist. Now, where's the chocolate?