One Thirty Two

Are you tired of hearing about how much weight I've lost? If so, skip this post.

Since it's 56 degrees here today, I thought I'd revert back to semi-summer clothes and break out the khakis (I don't care about that whole light pants after whatever day crap) . So, I put on my very favorite Bass khakis that I haven't worn since August, and well, they just look silly now. I think I'm probably down 3 or 4 sizes. Rachelle gave me a pair of size 10 jeans, because she's dropping the weight too, although she's working her ass off for it, and after wearing them around the house last night, they're just falling off of me. Most of my pants are 12s and now they all have safety pins in the side.

I've come to the conclusion that my life used to revolve around food because I was bored with everything else in it. I would be eating breakfast at work and already thinking about what I was going to make for dinner. And if I was going to cook, it was going to be An Event. Complete with a bottle of wine and dessert. It's a total girlfriend/wife thing. Providing meals for your man. Being the planner, the nuturer. Is that a word?

I actually slipped into that mindset a few months ago when McP came over to watch a movie. I started planning a dinner. And it was stressing me out. I called him to see what he wanted and he said "Um, you don't have to cook. It's just a movie." Oh. I don't need to feed you? Huh. Okay. That makes life a little easier.

I don't know what my life revolves around anymore (my couch? blogging?) but it's not food. Dinners aren't that big of a deal anymore. I'm happy with pita chips and hummus. The pretty pink pills do require that I actually eat dinner because I can't take them on an empty stomach, so I guess that's a good thing. It gets me eating whether I want to or not.

And I'm sure the lack of jack-n-cokes isn't hurting either.