So, this was going to be a letter to my scale, which does not budge. But it's going to be something else. Some good news.
I got turned down for life insurance, and it really made me mad. But such is life. I haven't been focused on dropping weight for a while now. I've had a lot going on. I haven't gone insane or anything, and I have not gained (which is a win in my world). But I'm working more now. I'm eating a little cleaner. I'm moving more (walking to the train, committing to working out more regularly). I feel pretty good.
I'm getting looks occasionally from women on the street. This is kind of cool. I know what this looks like because--well, I just do. They aren't really lingering looks. They are glances. But they're there. I like it, even though I am not on the market in any sense.
Yesterday a friend I haven't seen in a while came over. "Hello, skinny!" she said. Who me? But that was fun.
Today, I had a really nice experience at the clothing store. I've needed some khakis for a while now. I'm kind of particular sometimes, and I wanted a particular color (shade, really). He showed me a stack of folded pants, said of some pairs, "These are too small, and these are too big." The too big ones? My size. I told him. "Really? You sure?"
Well not really. I haven't tried on clothes in a while. I've been on the cusp of a lower size, too. And as you probably know, not all clothes marked with the same size are really the same size. But I tried on a smaller size and they fit. Amazing. And I bought a linen suit, too. I've been wanting a summer suit.
Here's what I think. I'm shrinking. I kind of wish I'd been tracking measurements. I really would like another twenty pounds to go away this summer. That would put me solidly into the lower size. (I know size is just a number, but the selection sure gets better as you get smaller.)