Saturday, August 11, 2012

So Much For My Cunning Plan


            Both times I’ve moved as an adult (once to Michigan, once to New York City), I’ve gained about ten pounds immediately post-move. I always take the pounds off again, but it’s a pain in the butt to have all your clothes be slightly too small. I’m tremendously excited about my upcoming move, and I really wanted to be able to celebrate with my friends without worrying if this glass of wine or that order of fish and chips is going to make me unable to zip up my jeans in the morning. I gain weight very easily, so even little indulgences can make me inflate like a balloon.

            My cunning plan, therefore, was to preemptively lose the ten pounds I know I’m likely to pack on in my first couple of months. I cracked down and through a concerted effort of calorie restriction, long runs and sketchy diet drugs I’ve managed to shave off about nine pounds so far.

            Total success, right? Well, yes, except that I didn’t think about how ten pounds is quite a lot of weight, and so now none of my clothes fit, which is sort of the problem I was trying to avoid in the first place. I’m teaching SAT prep classes in the mornings, and a couple of times my jeans have slid down far enough to display my underthings, which isn’t exactly the impression I want to make on my students.

            My last group of students finishes up this coming week, and I’ve got no real engagements after that until I move, so I will wear lots of drawstring trousers and dresses, and count down the days until I can have enough celebratory wine that my jeans fit again!

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