Will you still need me, will you still feed me, when I’m 134?
As of today, I have officially lost 20 lbs. I am very disappointed that bells didn’t go off and confetti and balloons didn’t fall from the ceiling when I stepped on the scale at the clinic. Shouldn’t that be mandatory? The receptionist didn’t even empty the contents of the three hole punch over my head – I would’ve settled for that.
So I’m about 2/3 of the way to my goal. I look great in a dress, but another 10 should have me looking nice in a bathing suit too. I hope. Well, good enough, anyway.
I am NOT doing the Pride Run this year, because I don’t feel like adjusting my diet for the training. Why mess with a good thing? Although if I find a pair of roller blades in my size at Goodwill between now and then, anything’s possible.
I thought I’d miss the wine the most, but I don’t. I miss pizza. Cheese, pesto, crust, oh!