I've worn the same skirt to church two Sundays in a row. I've done this partly because it's that time of year when your summer clothes are still packed away but all your winter clothes are too heavy, so all you have to wear is that one outfit you left in the closet just in case global warming suddenly got out of control and you had an unnaturally warm day in the middle of winter.
The other reason is because I banged my pinkie toe 12 days ago on a box of junk that was sitting in the middle of the 9 inch wide path between my office and the shipping area. It really hurt but I didn't think much about it--until the next morning when my whole foot started swelling up and turned this really deep dark purple, the kind of purple that almost looks black. So I've spent the past 10 days wearing an ace bandage and a medical boot. This looks funny. Ergo, I wear my one and only long skirt to church to cover it up.
But that's not what this blog is about.
Somehow, between last Sunday and this one, my skirt grew. And not just a little bit. It was sliding off my waist. Low enough that my underwear showed over the top. (Boy, was that embarrassing because I didn't notice it until CHURCH WAS OVER.)
So when I got home, I stepped on the scales. I don't weigh myself very often because I really don't care how many pounds I am. All I care about is can I wear my favorite pair of jeans and breathe at the same time. And that is what this blog is about. I am 5 pounds healthier than the last time I weighed.
How the heck did that happen?
It must be that picture of a healthy body I put on my vision board.
Now playing on my super skinny iPod: Igor Gruppman and the MoTabs (Greatest Hits)