Some days, I have big dreams. For instance, today I dream that one morning, I will wake up and discover that the fashion fairy has magically granted me an entirely new wardrobe.
Today was obviously not that day.
Instead, I found myself at a crossroads. The leggings and lone pair of maternity slacks I have rotated through for months have started slipping and sliding around more–at face value, an awesome indicator that my weight loss goals are creeping nearer. I have finally made progress chipping away at a noticeable chunk of baby weight (over one year later–the greatest lie ever told is that you will only wear maternity clothes nine months, for the record).
So, yay for losing weight. Except now nothing fits right; the maternity clothes swim on me, while my old clothes still look like wishful thinking. Nothing shrinks back the same way it expanded. Am I right?
Which is how I wound up frantically grabbing clothes off the rack at Target at 8:30 AM, then texting my supervisor about why I was running late:
It’s 28 degrees, I live in Florida, and I have no pants.
How’s your Thursday going?