One of my WW tasks this week is to sort through my clothes and get rid of all the too big, “just in case” stuff. So I was poking around in the underbed drawers today, and I pulled out a Notre Dame tank top completely *covered* in cat fur. Upon cleaning it off, I realized that it’s the same top I’m wearing in my “before” picture, the one I keep posted on the fridge and carry with me to meetings for inspiration. (Everyone I show it to refuses to believe that it’s even me. I look like a fatter, older distant relation.) Curious, I tried the top on and took a picture of myself in roughly the same sort of pose. And now, of course, you all want to see the comparison.
The “before” shot is from a barbecue in 2002 over at the Snook’s sister’s place. Pretty night and day, huh? Who knew that I had collarbones? I’m swimming in this top now. It’s stretched all to hell. In fact, it’s so loose that it probably borders on a little skanky, what with my bra occasionally poking out, but I think I’m going to wear it outside today anyway. Skank it up, baby! I’ve earned it.
After squash this morning, my bathroom scales read 83kg. I know that’s not an accurate reading, but it’s still the lowest number that thing’s ever given me. I’m excited.
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