This is yet another post that almost didn’t happen because I was so wrapped up in reading The Fault in Our Stars by John Green, that I forgot the world hadn’t decided to stand still for me. And yes, it happens to be more YA literature. Don’t judge me. I’m willing to bet that many of you have read the Twilight series, and it was nowhere near as well written as The Fault in Our Stars. I do wish I had been warned that the book was such a tearjerker. John Green has an incredible talent for pulling you into a story and forcing you to feel the emotions of his characters. Had I known that in advance, I could have avoided being caught in a rather embarrassing predicament. My daughter may still be traumatized from finding my curled up on the floor next to my bed, rocking back and forth while leaking excessively from my eye sockets. But that’s not what I’m here to tell you.
I stepped on the scale yesterday and…lost another three pounds this week! That brings me to a grand total of 25. I am still not ready to share my starting weight, but I will say that this week I reached a number of great importance. You’ll find out why later on.
It dawned on me that I probably have one of the only weight loss stories in cyberspace that doesn’t include progress pictures. Below is a picture I took yesterday, all decked out in blue for Autism Awareness. I’m sorry about the toilets in the background, but the bathroom at work is really the only place I could think of with a full-length mirror. I could have played tourist and asked a random employee at Publix to snap a picture of me in front of the bakery case, but that would only serve to enhance my fatness. So toilet pics will have to do for now. Sadly, I don’t have a true “before” picture. There is only this “during” picture, which still looks very much like a “before” picture. A true before picture would reveal how this very abaya used to showcase each of my belly rolls individually. Since I don’t have actual proof, you’ll just have to take my word for it.
I’m not really sure how often I will take progress pictures, but it isn’t something I look forward to because I haven’t gotten past my feelings of disdain for the way I look in pictures. My workouts not only flood my bloodstream with awesome endorphins, but they also trick my mind into forgetting that my thighs still rub together and my bra still gets twisted up between creases of back fat. While my mind creates images of a very svelte me, pictures serve as a painfully accurate reminder that I still qualify as abundant in mass. Don’t worry; I’m really not in a funk over this. I don’t “all alone beweep my outcast state”, as Shakespeare would say. I get that this current form is temporary. I’m not focusing on the destination so much as I am enjoying the journey.
With that being said, I am off to read The Book Thief. See you all next week!