Beating a dead horse

OK, first I'd like to offer my thoughts on April Fools Day:

I don't like it.

I don't like be pranked, tricked or surprised in a way that means people knew shit and I didn't. My anxiety issue precludes me from enjoying things. So please for everyone's safety, don't mess with me — you might just end up getting cut (not likely as I also have a fear of knives) ... or I'll yell at you (very likely — I have no yelling issues, huh Bill?).

So onward to the dead horse:

Hey, did you know I lost some weight recently (I know, I can hear your eyes rolling right now. Again with the weight loss? Jeez, I need to get over myself already.)

Well, since the aforementioned thing (see, I'm just beating the dead horse lightly with jazz brush drumsticky things), my pants have been too big and I've taken to wearing a belt. I hate wearing a belt. It just adds more bulk to my gut which is bulky enough on its own.

But I've been too chicken to shop for new pants.

I've been afraid that the next size down wouldn't fit and I'd have to keep wearing my loose pants until I could figure out a way to lose yet more weight (which I am struggling to do at this point).

But last night I bit the bullet and trudged into the Gap.

I picked out a couple pairs of work-like pants and a couple pairs of jeans in the next size down and headed to the dressing room.

Mar was with me, so I said out loud, "It's OK if these don't fit. It's no big deal." She just looked at me and said, "Uh yeah ... oh can I push the service button for the girl to come bring you a bigger size."

I hoped it wouldn't come to that.

So I took a deep breath and tried on the pants.

And they fit.

I almost cried and had to resist the urge to run out of the dressing room and around the store shouting the size of my pants.

I've never wore this size pants. Ever (OK maybe once when I was in middle school, but still).

I felt like I won the lottery, but then I realized I didn't win anything. I earned this size pants.

And I'm hoping to get my still-flabby self in gear and go down at least one more pants size before the pool opens in May.

That's my goal. I may end up crying over not getting there, but at least I'm here and at least no one has said April Fools Day to me, yet.