Sshhhhh. I know. I should be asleep. Don't worry; I will be. Soon.You can work out all you want, acknowledge the results, fight through the soreness that comes from the beginning of a weight training program, and tell yourself that you're really going to make it, but there's nothing quite like the leap of faith that comes from the closet. The day you decide to clean it out, that is.

Everyone who has gone through a major weight change knows it. It's the day you look in your closet and admit to yourself that you really can't wear most of the items you've got stashed away, and that perhaps it's time to start letting your friends ravage through your collection to see if there's anything they want to use.

I did that last week. I hadn't planned on doing it that particular day, but I opened up the closet to look for some item or another. I realized that most of the clothing in there would never be worn again by me, and that it was time to take a deep breath and

just.

Today's workout went well. It doesn't sound like much of a statement, until you know that the past few days have been some of the most frustrating and depressing workout days I've had since January. I fell off the wagon—hard—and I'm the only one who can plop my ass back on it.

Sometime around Wednesday, I stopped paying quite so much attention to what I was eating. Those of you playing the home game know how much of a struggle trying to relearn healthy eating habits has been for me. Without vigilance, without care, I repeatedly forget to eat. For someone who struggles on a daily basis to get her calorie intake up to 1600 Kcal/day, the lack of vigilance and care means the difference between a finished and unfinished workout.

I don't have a large margin for error, even on good days.

I'm sure that in the feline world, this position makes a weird sort of sense. (Click photo for larger image.)

Unfortunately, I don't live in that world, so I'll just have to speculate. I guess Edmund's belly was too warm?

I was going to start off this entry with some nice, staid sentences about how I'm rethinking my original plan to not do any sort of costuming for dragon*con 2004. Screw that. It's happy dance time.I tried on the size 16 jeans tonight. They're not what I call public-ready, but they button and they zip, which they most certainly didn't do when I originally bought them in late March. The size 18s, which I've been able button & zip since April 10, are now public-ready. (Translation: I don't find the squeezed-sausage look terribly attractive, and refuse to inflict it on others.)

On the way home from the gym today:

To tell you truth I've said it before

tomorrow I start in a new direction

I know I've been half asleep

I'm never doing that again

I look straight at what's coming ahead

and soon it's gonna change in a new direction

Every night as I'm falling asleep

these words repeated in my head

Guster - 'Come Downstairs and Say Hello'

I cried in a dressing room today. Wasn't much, just a tear or two, and only for a moment, but whether or not I feel embarrassment admitting it, it did happen.

I've told a lot of people that I can't quite see the changes that have been happening to me in the past three months, but that's not exactly the truth. I see small things: changes in tautness of skin, the return of a dimple that I haven't seen in several years. Just not what the rest of you are apparently seeing.