The enormousness of petites

About a month before we left Boston, a sales woman enlightened me: I should be shopping in the petites section. Wha? I'm not super tall , but my limbs are like those of Elastic Man. How could I be a petite? Well, whatever, I am. I can't understand it so I've chosen to stop questioning it. She was right: clothes in the petite section fit me. Like, off the hanger fit me. Which is nothing short of a miracle.

My job interview went well, thanks in part to the petites section of Ann Taylor Loft. I went there Tuesday when I found out they wanted me to come back for a second interview Wednesday and I was plum out of summer suit wear. Lucky for me, I found something cute and very professional. And it goes with the one pair of heels I own.

As for the job, they said they want to make their decision early next week. The woman in charge of the hiring is out of town for the rest of the week. So please cross fingers and toes that they pick me! So far, no reference calls have been made (I'm in close contact with all my references so they always email me or call me if someone contacts them, and then they fill me in on all the glowing praise they gave me - it's a great setup).

So on a different but related note, today I went to my new doctor and of course they weighed and measured me. And shockingly, they measured me at 5'2 1/4".

"How can this be?" I asked. "I always thought I was 5'3 1/4"?"

The nurse just smiled.

"Seriously, did I shrink?"

The nurse's smile broadened. "People often think they're taller than they actually are."

I was not to be placated. "But really, I've measured 5'3 1/4" for years!" A horrifying thought occurred to me: "I've been rounding up to 5'4", for God's sake!"

The nurse gave me a wink. "Looks like we made a liar out of you, then, huh?"

I laughed. "I guess so! Wow, it's like my whole life changed in this one moment."

The nurse looked hesitant. "I'm almost afraid to put you on the scale now."

This unexpected news flash really makes me rethink the whole petites thing. Maybe it's not so weird after all. I mean, 5'2" sounds petite to me. 5'4" didn't. I walked out to my car after my appointment and slumped into the drivers seat. Should I readjust the seat positioning? I mean, I'm actually a small person, apparently. Do I need a pillow booster under my butt? (Don't laugh, my mom does that.)

I turned the ignition so I could deal with my newly discovered petiteness in the cool of the air conditioning. And I was left thinking, as I so often am, that life is just full of surprises you don't see coming. Once again, the world shifts oh so slightly, and things are just that little bit different. I bunched up my sweatshirt, stuck it under my *ss, and pulled out of the parking lot.