Scene: Me, in my messy bedroom, attempting to clean up the chaos of six weeks inattention. Suddenly I spot my heretofore still-too-tight skinny jeans in a bag of clean laundry. I gasp. Against all my wishes, they've been washed!
These are the jeans that I wore over and over for the longest time (far too long to admit publicly) because I was scared they'd be incredibly tight once out of the dryer. But M, being the doll that he is, made sure I came home to clean clothes when I left the hospital.
Overcome by compulsion. Must. Try. On.
Fear holds me back.
Compulsion wins over fear.
Jeans slide on. Easily. I take them off, check label, make sure they're right pair.
Yup. Will the magic hold if I slide them on again? Yup.
It's not worth the pain and suffering I've been through these past weeks.... but hey, at least this damn gall bladder disaster got me something!
Now I just have to make sure I don't eat myself back out of them while I'm recuperating at home, banned from the gym by Dr. No.
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