These past couple of weeks have been insane with nursing school (last week was aka Hell Week), but I've maintained weight (for the most part, save for Halloween weekend, might have binged a little with my best friend being in town from Indiana), even though I haven't lost any.
I'm okay with this.
More than that, I was told by a friend (read: several friends) that my pants were getting too baggy, especially in the butt area. Now I really don't have much ass to spare and I really haven't wanted to lose it there, but whatev. Taking their words to heart, I did a thing that most women enjoy but I do not.
I went shopping.
I hate the mall. I hate shopping, unless it's for someone else or if I'm buying groceries because we all know how much I like to eat. I hate the sounds of the mall, hate the people who come up to me, wanting me to try their hand lotions or buy a cover for my craptastic cell phone. I hate dressing rooms, I hate thumbing through the plus sizes, I hate salespeople.
So with great trepidation, I walked into a store in which I will not name. I immediately walked to the plus size, then remembered that I'm not plus sized anymore before moseying over to the women's section (I swear, I only stopped at the kid's section for a little bit. My daughter needed a new shirt). So I automatically grabbed my normal size and headed to the dressing room.
They fell off.
Cheered a wee bit, I went for the next size down.
They fell off too.
Getting really excited, I tried the next size down.
They were baggy.
At this point, I was ecstatic. Dropping off the pants and tossing the shirt I'd found for the lovely one somewhere, I headed to one of those stores that has the music pounding so loud that you can't hear anything and the bags with the half-naked men on them...the one I haven't visited since having children.
When I walked in, I was half-afraid one of the teenagers working there was going to ask me what I thought I was doing there, but they just greeted me with a wave and went back to texting on their phone that's way better than mine. <--can you tell that I'm really trying to get my husband to buy me a new phone?
After grabbing a size that I haven't seen since I was eighteen, I headed to the dressing room and pulled them up, praying that I would be able to actually button them without having to suck it in too much.
OH MY GOD, they fit. I'm in a pant size that is HALF of what I was wearing 3 years ago when I started losing weight.
Happiness ensues.
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