Getting into my pants.......

is always on my mind.......

I think it comes with the territory.
Of being a fat girl.
A dieting girl.
A girl who paraded through sizes like a boy in puberty.

Now that I'm trying to be more organized each morning, I spend a little bit of extra time each night planning out my outfit for the next day.
Knowing what I want to wear each day has never been my forte.
For as long as I can remember, I always lived by the rule that I would just feel my outfit when I bounced out of bed.
Funny thing....I never bounced out of bed.
I slithered.
I moaned.
I thrust my fist in the air threatening the day ahead.
I groggily made my way to the shower, hoping hot water would do the trick.
Or, maybe the toothpaste would lead me to feeling the fashion.
When that didn't work, I'd stand in my closet and hope that the feeling would come over me.
Never a good way to feel my way into a look.
Maybe I just did all of that in order to avoid the inevitable before I went to bed....the reality that nothing would fit.
It was just better going to bed holding on to the belief that something would fit.
And, not just fit but somehow magically turn me into the fashionista I always fashioned myself to be.
With my new devotion to making my mornings less indecisive, I've started figuring out what I will wear before I fall into bed.
I figured---now that I'm thinner and my closet is not filled with things that used to fit, my chances of going to bed dreading the misery of finding something to wear was a thing of the past.
For the most part--it was a logical assumption.
Yet, there are those nights when I painstakingly pull out the next day's outfit before I eat dinner. Then, the rest of the night, I secretly fear that I will outgrow the pants overnight.
As if somehow the crab cake and the clandestine chocolate Hershey's kiss will throw me into another size.
I just can't shake the fear that if I misbehave--a-la the chocolate candy--I will grow out of my pants.
In my dieting girl mind, I hold on to the notion that morsels of enjoyment will cancel out everything.
My hips will expand.
My belly will explode.
My thighs will grow.
My pants will not fit.
Even with everything that I've been through and everything that I know, I am haunted by the bad food thing.
Eat chocolate=Get fat.

So, here I sit--in the early morning hours......thinking about getting into my pants.
Life is just a mystery.....