I haven’t weighed myself for a couple of weeks, but Margie and Jackie seem determined to get me into size 36 pants. Which, in fact, based on two pair that Margie got me (at Jackie’s egging on) I seem to fit. Which, in turn, is … disturbing. I guess it’s a fear of success thing — I’m tickled pink I’m now fitting into 38s, but 40s are now feeling too loose and baggy on me, which worries me that if I can fit into 36s, my 38s will soon no longer fit. And where will it end?!
I know, it’s kind of goofy to be worried about my waistline shrinking. Part of it is, I think, I’m afraid that if I dip too far down, I’ll end up rebounding again, which will feel like a real defeat. Whereas, if I stabilize, even if it’s above where I want to be, it gives me something to strive for, and, well, stability (almost always a good thing in my book).
Anyway, I guess this means I’d better weigh myself sometime soon. And consider what size pants to ask for come Christmas time.