the good. the bad. and the roomie.

This has been a week of ups and downs.

The ups. Last night at Zumba one of my classmates asked if I've lost weight. Yes! I said. Also a colleague asked. I was on a high.

Yesterday was chrio day. Jury still out on that one, but I'm paid for a year, so I go. Afterwards was the benefits fair at work. Being part-time I have no benefits, but I go anyway. Free food. And it turns out, chair massages. For the first time in weeks there wasn't a knot at the base of my neck. I think I need to do this more regularly. First I have to see what the affordable care act is going to cost me. Dread that process.

The bad. About two weeks ago I received an email from Michelle. A surprise weigh in for the Sugar Crushers book. Oops. I 've not really followed that diet in weeks. It was a test panel, not a lifestyle. And it's very difficult to follow with the roomie. She won't eat but three things on it.  I lost another five pound and a couple inches. I was okay with that. It probably would have been better had I not toally fallen off the wagon the two weeks around Halloween. On the up side, Michelle gave me shirts to promote her new walking business—mywalkingcoach.com. Lydia is going to have to wait for hers. Something was wrong with the 2xs. She needed to have them re-done.

The horrible. A couple weeks ago I was shopping with Bonnie and bought a size 16 pants. I was delighted. When I started this adventure about 4 years ago I was in a 24 headed quickly to a 26. I felt good. One day I was shopping with my sisters and found this cute black and white knit a-line skirt. I tried it on the other day, and it fit. But it was first thing in the morning, with no control top hosiery.  It didn't look it's best. I showed the roomie. She told me I looked like a "sausage". Thanks. I explained the hosiery. She didn't buy it. I thought about taking it back and it just sat there in the bag.

Yesterday my other sister was over. Apparently she snooped in the bag and said "OMG it's a 16". The roomie told me today she knew the reason my skirt didn't fit. "It was only a 16." "I know". You don't wear a f**ing 16. "Yes, I do. All my new-to-me pants are a 16." "They were cut big" she snarled. "You are at least a 20. You are fatter than me." GULP.

I had already decided to take it back today before work before this conversation. I don't really like stores during the Christmas selling season. Okay, let me rephrase that. I don't like the parking lots and traffic. I was getting dressed and decided to try on the skirt again. This time with the proper items underneath. Damn it looked good. The roomie waddles in. "That skirt is too small." "No it's not. I think it looks good". Dang I wish Bonnie was there to back me up. "You look like a sausage. It needs to be at least one size bigger. Probably two." Then it would be 9 inches too big in the waist and I am not going to a tailor.

I took it back. I looked at nothing on my way in. I've pretty much decided not to buy any new clothes. I don't care how big ... or small ... they are.

After leaving Lane Bryant I pulled in Arbys and got onion rings and a soda. Now where the hell did I put that wagon?