“Jesus Christ”, Carey mumbled to her reflection, “I look like a sausage”. She had been searching the sale racks of the Harrisons Department Store with the intensity of a jungle cat stalking its prey. The dimly lit dressing room was littered with garments of every variety all strewn about her feet. Had she wanted to dress conservatively or raunchy, did she want a red or black top? She did not know. But what Carey did know is that somewhere in this god-awful store, somewhere on one of the racks there MUST be something that didn’t make her look this, tremendously, FAT. Was fat really the right word? She had gained a little weight since college but, hadn’t everyone? She was sure they had. So what if she was no longer a size 6. Was that really so terrible? Was being a single, 28 year old, SIZE 8 the worst thing there was? Fuck NO. Carey knew plenty of women who would KILL to be a size 8- her chubby cousin Cindy for one. Being in the dressing at H...