Sobering Wasteline

Shot of Reality rang out today as I stood in the Dillards dressing room, size 4s (which I'd grabbed with the hope they'd be slightly too big) hanging on the wall, and frowned in the mirror. What the hell?

Let me paint you a picture of what I saw staring back at me:
Seams stretched around the hips and thighs but further north, where those precious darts point to the girls, limp and lacking. What the hell?

I know going up a dress size to a 4 or 6 would make many woman want to smack me. I understand a majority of women are larger than this. But take it from my perspective. 6 years ago I was a size 0. 0 people! Now when I expanded to a size 2 I was kinda happy as I looked womanly with hips. Watching myself continue to expand is not so elevating. I'm working my ass off and yet there it is, it's still there.

The problem? Life. Life is the problem. I've entered into graduate school, which is more like life than undergrad, and Life has shown up laughing its little mocking head at me while I struggle to cope and wonder, 'what the hell is going on?'.

Now I don't have a 9-5. But I do have class, followed by more work than you could shake a stick at. Stress makes me want lovely, tasty, decadent chocolate! Stress also makes me tired. Chocolate + sleep -time= WEIGHT GAIN!

I've never been a scale watcher. My idea is that if I like the way I look in my clothes then fine. I'm not loving the way I look in my clothes. So where does that nasty bitch Reality step in? The realization as I drove home from Dillards (where I'd gone after the gym) that I can't possibly cram in more workouts plus cooking (you know, not using the microwave and Lean Cuisine as my personal chef) and still bring my grades up this quarter. It's just not physically possible. Time just doesn't bind that way.

Thank you Reality. Thanks a lot.

And now back to studying...and not eating m&ms.