Hammer Time

So awhile ago I told the story of putting on my go-to pair of black pants, panicking that they no longer fit and then realizing that they were a much smaller pair that I hadn't been able to wear in ages. Well, I've been wearing the smaller pants for a few weeks - and they are getting too loose.

It was bound to happen - when one is forced to cut out processed flour and refined sugar, a shedding of pounds is pretty much an inevitability. And I realize that I should be happy about this state of affairs, but . . .

Truth be told, it's making me cranky.

The general idea with weight loss is to feel and look better. Feeling better? Check. Looking better? Well, you be the judge. Since the weight is coming off faster than my skin can adjust, I currently look like this:

And my clothes fit me like this:



Okay, maybe it's not that bad, but I do notice wrinkles that I didn't have before. I keep telling myself that they were already there, and the excess adipose tissue just held them at bay, but a voice inside of me (a very angry voice) is screaming, "YOU LET YOUR FACE GET FAT AND STRETCHED YOUR SKIN IN THE PROCESS, AND NOW LOOK AT YOU! OR DON'T LOOK AT YOU, BECAUSE, EWW, GROSS, MS. CRYPT KEEPER!"

And as for the pants . . . . I'm going through one of those awkward phases where one size is ridiculously big on me, but the next size down is just a trifle small - so my options are to look like I belong to some bizarre cult where women don Hefty bags to camouflage their female shapes or to stuff myself into something that's just a smidge too small and look - well, like I have stuffed myself into something. Option #3 would be to buy clothes just to wear for a couple of weeks, but for the sake of my pocketbook and general common sense I am holding a hard line against option #3, and - in the interest of common decency - generally opting for #1. But I almost broke down and bought "temporary clothes" after my shopping trip to Christmas in Cowtown. As I was moving from aisle to aisle, I noticed that people kept looking DOWN. And then I noticed that the crotch of my pants was HANGING AT KNEE LEVEL. I ultimately decided to laugh it off - hey, if my packages get too heavy, I have some built-in storage space! - but, gee whiz, give a girl a break.

Those pants have been relegated to the donation pile along with a lot of things, like this cute sundress:

Which I had really looked forward to wearing while sitting on the new couch in the newly remodeled den/office, between these pillows:


A COUCH CAMOUFLAGE PHOTO OP MISSED! Okay, we haven't purchased the couch yet, because we haven't finished painting - well, we haven't STARTED painting, unless you count four test areas that I put up on the walls. But I did put pillow inserts in the Ikat pillow covers over the weekend.

My house . . . like my body, a work in progress.