I miss my fat sweatshirt tonight.
I’m never cold, but lately, I’ve been dragging out the long sleeves, wearing pants and socks at home, slipping under an afghan while I’m watching TV. I always joked that I was always warm because I was well-insulated…but now I wonder if there wasn’t some truth to that. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve still got my fair share of padding, but…it’s like a
During my big closet purge, I got rid of everything I owned that was too big for me. I didn’t even keep a pair of pants I could hold up in front of me and drop dramatically, Biggest Loser style. I also got rid of my fat sweatshirt.
It was a big (obviously) blue sweatshirt given to me by Mrs. C’s sister-in-law years ago. It was ratty and not really fit for public wear, but I dragged it out every once in a while. I found it folded on the shelf in my closet and considered keeping it for nights when I wanted the big, comfy shirt to relax in. In the end, I decided I couldn’t keep it. It had to go.
Tonight, though, I miss my fat sweatshirt. Tonight, I went to Target for hair dye and lip balm and walked out with dinner. I was famished after Body Pump…and the rotisserie chicken and fancy sandwich fixings I walked out with weren’t nearly as bad of a choice as I could have made. Tonight, I overate, as I have for most of the day. My boss brought in bagels and orange juice this morning, in which I indulged…the carb-laden bagel did me in, and I was starving for the rest of the day. Stupid, addictive, hunger-inducing bread.
Sunday was my weigh-in day, and I do not always make the best choices on Sunday—although I did sweat my way through two Turbo Kick classes that day. And yesterday…well, yesterday I wanted Chipotle, and ended up eating half my fridge contents instead. (After a healthy dose of Hip Hop Hustle and PiYo.) I had planned on doing better today. And now, I will do better tomorrow.
I’m cold, though. Wish I had that big, blue sweatshirt to drown in.