A lot of people have been commenting on how well I must be doing with my weight-loss plan, since I never feel like swallowing food whole eating anymore.

And guess what? They’re right. I weighed 151 when I went in for surgery, and today, after four days of subsisting almost wholly on apple sauce, yoghurt, chicken broth, and banana smoothies, I’ve lost three more pounds, bringing my weight down to 148.

The lightest I’ve been in my adult life was 149. My goal for June 20th is 140 (my goal was to lose 25 pounds in six months, starting at Christmastime when I weighed 165).

[By the way, are you glad I told you my weight?  I’ve been thinking about doing it for a long time, so as to have some sort of accountability for my weight-loss plan, but I’ve always been too chicken before now.  For some reason, though, I don’t really care anymore—I’m happy with my successes, and I’m motivated to keep working; the whole wide world could know about it, and it wouldn’t change my weight, so why not just be up-front about it?  Yes, I weigh 148.  Yes, it was just a few months ago that I weighed 165.  Yes, I gained 15 pounds after getting married.  It’s in the past.  And at the end of the day, it’s just weight. Y’know?  That was refreshing.]

Today when I got out of bed at—oh, noon—I decided I felt well enough to get dressed (miracle!) and run some errands here in Mayberry.  But, in searching about for something to wear, I realised my only pair of *fitting* jeans were in the washing machine.  Curses.  I couldn’t walk down Main Street completely naked {though according to my list, I would’ve rather done that than had my wisdom teeth out}, so I started pilfering through my closet to see if anything else would do…

…and that’s when I saw them.  My skinny jeans.  No, not those kind of skinny jeans…

…I could never pull those off…

…But the “bought during a rare time of slim-ness and are practically in mint condition from lack of wear because that slim-ness lasted only a few months” kind of skinny jeans.  The “I’ll still let them hang in the closet even though they’re getting dusty, because you never know“ kind of skinny jeans.  The “oh yeah, I forgot I had those, even though I see them every clothed day of my life” kind of skinny jeans.  In other words, I haven’t worn them in years.

And guess what?  They zip up!

Unfortunately, they’re atrocious.  I don’t know what compelled me to purchase such a light-coloured denim.  They’re practically sandblasted.  Horrors.

Even more unfortunately is that I still have a muffin top when I wear them.

It’s undeniable.

They aren’t really “workable” unless I wear a baggy sort of hoodie with them (which I’m not above doing, don’t worry).  At any rate, they’ll do, but I’m nevertheless still annoyed with the question of why these jeans give me a muffin top, when I’m supposedly at the skinniest weight of my life.  It’s a mystery.  I’ve thought it over, though, and decided there are three possible reasons for the muffin top:

1.  The jeans never fit properly from the beginning.

2.  The jeans have shriveled up whilst hanging, unused, for over three years, or

3.  All my weight loss has been in my face.

Which is very likely, don’tcha think?

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