Dear Fellow Diet-"er,"
I have been in the process of removing the 10-15 lbs I have acquired as to my lack of exercise and my bounty in chocolate cake over the past several years in school...With these preliminaries...on to the adventure...
A most dreadful thing happened to me this morning, due to my horrific optimism. I had noticed that my feet are getting smaller as a result of my diet. This unfortunately led me to believe that the rest of me was getting smaller also. One dilemma I have is that the arm holes, also known as sleeves, in my short sleeved blouses, are too small for my big, fat, chunky arms. By too small, I do not mean a slight degree of discomfort. I mean, so tight that you couldn't possibly undo the button with my arm encased.
I have been in the process of removing the 10-15 lbs I have acquired as to my lack of exercise and my bounty in chocolate cake over the past several years in school...With these preliminaries...on to the adventure...
A most dreadful thing happened to me this morning, due to my horrific optimism. I had noticed that my feet are getting smaller as a result of my diet. This unfortunately led me to believe that the rest of me was getting smaller also. One dilemma I have is that the arm holes, also known as sleeves, in my short sleeved blouses, are too small for my big, fat, chunky arms. By too small, I do not mean a slight degree of discomfort. I mean, so tight that you couldn't possibly undo the button with my arm encased.
Back to this morning, being in slight haste thanks to a 9am class 45 minutes away, I chose a pink skirt, A line, which means it fits for about 6 sizes, and then couldn't find a white top beyond a massage school t-shirt. I rummaged through my white blouses and found a cute one-- size medium, not extra small. I figured I had lost enough weight for a medium, made sure the side zip was open along with the buttons, enthusiastically pulled it over my head, past my bosom (which should have been a glaring clue that enough weight loss had not occurred if I was in possession of a bosom)...and then I was at the point of no return...my arms had become one with the sleeves, and by one, I do in fact mean one. I immediately broke out into a sweat, which was a bummer since not only was the blouse clean, having been laundered and ironed several years back, but I was freshly showered, and also sweat doesn't generally aid the process of removing apparel. Or putting it on, for that matter.
I could see my email to my professor:
Dear Professor,
I would have preferred being at stats this morning, but instead I had to wrestle my way out of a blouse with arm holes so tight, that it cut the circulation off in both limbs, and I had to get my children to cut me out of the damn thing with a pair of scissors. That may have been the most terrifying part of the process. AND I had to bribe them all not to tell ANYONE about this, which cost me a fortune, as you can well imagine....
My imaginary letter never became reality because my frantic requests that ascended into the heavens were answered! I was able to extricate my self from the blouse, my poor fat arms didn't appear to be bruised from the assault, and a much wiser me, hung the blouse back in the closet, with the other forsaken for the sake of fat, blouses.
I then donned the white t-shirt with massage school lettering, whose arm holes were plenty big, and took my much humbled self to school.
~Jenny
P.S. There is simply no justice in the world when after weeks of dieting, your feet are so small that you have to walk funny to keep your shoes on when you walk, and all your clothes are still too small.
P.P.S. My dad sent me a Valentine card yesterday which contained a $100 bill. Random valentine cards with $100 are very pleasant.
P.P.P.S. I therefore took my plump body and skinny feet to DSW where I bought two pair of the world's most comfortable shoes. It cost $98.67.
P.P.P.P.S. Heretofore, I had concluded that I simply love myself too much to take up some obscene habit like jogging. I may be forced to reconsider. The universe is a mean place.
