The magic of the single digit size
So, as some of you may know from reading my French Fried Updates, my latest quest has been to become healthier and shrink my butt a little. For as long as I remember I have been a size 12, 14, or even the dreaded 16 (that was the college freshman 30 in my case!!!). But lately I have been a size 10. Also, I moved back in with my mother, meaning my little sister’s room is now next to mine. She wears a size 8 or 10. So lately my favorite hobby is lingering in her room, looking at the clothes I like, and seeing that the size 10s fit. I know it’s lamer than lame, but it makes me see the fruits of my labor. I’m a broke woman, I can’t go buying new clothes at this moment. This mornning I discovered something glorious, as I slipped on that magic single size, 8 talls, they fit me perfectly. I wish that were the end, but I got a bright idea following this triumph.
After having my morning of coffee and reading, I meandered from the bookstore to the clothing stores. As I walked into NY&Co., music blaring, black and white walls displaying the latest fads and classic workwear, I wanted to say “OH GREAT, I’m just looking for size 8s,” when the way too chipper for a gray day woman said “Good afternoon, how are you today?? Just let me know if you need any help.”
I continued walking through, searching for my perfect pair of pants that would serve as proof that I was on my way (to being thin that is, not world peace). I found 2, one I got in a size 10 and the others in an 8. GUESS WHAT?!?! The size 10s fit me perfectly. And as I stepped back to reflect on the image of myself in size 8s, I could only laugh. My hips rolled over the sides much like I imagine a woman who has just given birth trying to fit into pre-pregnancy pants. I have never been pregnant. But hey, 2 months ago they probably wouldn’t have zipped up. I am on my way. The car is just going 45(mph), not 60.
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