I started out at 213.6 (I know this because it's written in eyeliner on my bathroom mirror) and now I've lost close to 20 pounds.
The trajectory I am on is actually going to get me down to a small size and then I'll see him while looking fabulous and make him feel like shit. That's the plan. Now, the vomity/ diarrhea stuff that's happening is, I suppose, something to embrace. There must be something wonderful that comes out of this nausea. Hell, when all else fails, you might as well look good in your jeans.
I left work at about 7:30 and darted right to Nordstrom rack. I can't buy clothes because everything I'm wearing is hanging off me anyway and I need to save my money for a new wardrobe. No, no people, I need some new shoes.
Nevermind, the fact that I have been on my feet all day. As I try on my regular 7 1/2 I notice I can barely get one toe in. I go up to 8's but the sexy toe cleavage pumps looks more like foot fat trying to escape out of a peep hole. I need to at least drink more water, I mean for God's sake, I have cankles!
Thankfully I found some slings with elastic.
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