I ordered myself a beautiful Vivien of Holloway circle dress the other day. That, I told myself, was my boyfriend’s late birthday present to me. He doesn’t know about it yet but I am sure I vaguely mentioned something the other night.
My eye was drawn to this particular china rose blue dress immediately and I hit the ‘put in basket’ button without time to lose. A few hours went by, I was distracted by some other bits and pieces, mainly rubbish tv. Suddenly my neurosis started creeping in – it crops up every day – it’s just one of my things. So I had a peek at the size charts and realised I may have ordered too small – but hang on – a 28 inch waist is what I should be, surely? Well, At a squeeze I was a 29 – with these dresses you do have to measure tight... In my neurotic little panic that ensued, I phoned the store ten times uhming and ahing over the size, and changed it to the 30 inch waist. A few hours later I started worrying about that – long story short and after measu=ring my waist very tightly about 20 times– I changed it back to my original order with the intention of losing the gross flab rolls that have taken over my body.
I saw a photo of myself on facebook and my arm looks the size of an elephant’s leg. So the diet starts – again. It starts every day by the way. At my slimmest I looked good - even my mother told me it was my perfect weight...so why am I not at the weight now? Well, I know very well why. I intend to do all those things I should do - regular exercise, healthy eating, yes all that. But I have a marginally large weak spot for cream slices, chocolate, cookies, and the list goes on. I go through waves of doing well and not doing so well where I just think 'WHATEVER' and eat to my hearts content. Which in turn makes me feel depressed with a young body shrouded by flab.
Right now, I am half a stone off my perfect weight...maybe that dress will fit after all, so lets see if I can squeeze into this dress when I get hold of it next week…..
No comments:
Post a Comment