To my mind, there are two types of women in the world; those who wear dresses regularly & those who don’t. I, in case you couldn’t guess, am in the later group, but it does a gal good to frock up occasionally, especially if, like me, she has been feeling particularly frumpy & hideous. As of this morning’s unfortunate date with the bathroom scales, I am about 5 kilos heavier than I have ever been in my life (not pregnant) & I do not like it.
I feel a bit hopeless about my weight at the moment; I take the sausages for a 30-40 minute brisk walk everyday, I don’t eat excessively or anything particularly bad (as I have in the past), I have replaced one meal a day with a green smoothie (not for weight reasons, but I thought it might have made some sort of difference…) & I keep staying exactly the same on those damn bathroom scales.
I think there must be something up with my metabolism – even when I was first away from home with a meagre food budget (think one meal a day, think pot noodles for that one meal) I never neared “thin”. I actually fainted in my room from lack of food but you’d never know it to look at me. I don’t want to be thin; I’ve given up on that long-held dream, right now I’d settle for just fitting comfortably in my pre-Suspence clothes, but it doesn’t look like it’s going to happen, which makes me, well…. sad. Sad & Frumpy with a capital ‘F’. But today, I’m embracing another word that starts with f: Frock.
Yeah I’m still a heffalump with unsightly bumps & lumps, but I’m a heffalump in a dress. The sun is shining & as far as I know, I’m healthy, so I’m going to avoid mirrors & enjoy the feeling of being a girl today. I need it.
(Gratuitous sausage-dog pictures provided to soften the blow of having to see me in a dress…)