TheBanyanTree: I woke up fat

[Sharon Mack]

I would be happy to wake up fat like that...try a 1X...now that's FAT!!!
Been there, done that.

Sharon

-----Original Message-----
From: thebanyantree-bounces at lists.remsset.com
[mailto:thebanyantree-bounces at lists.remsset.com] On Behalf Of Monique
Sent: Thursday, April 13, 2006 1:43 PM
To: thebanyantree-remsset.com at lists.remsset.com
Subject: TheBanyanTree: I woke up fat

It happens. Yesterday I woke up, showered, and could not get my freshly
laundered size ten jeans on. And not my bought-in-the-jr-section jeans, one
of which is notorious for not fitting because it is made for a sylph and not
a grown up, but my standard Levi size ten jeans, the ones that always fit.
So I put on the standard Levi size twelve jeans, which are an exact
duplicate of the size tens except for the, well, size. And they fit fine.
This means I woke up fat. 

 

Unfortunately, within an hour my butt was sagging because the size twelve
jeans are, well, too big. Did I lose weight after waking up? This is the
only explanation I can think of. Surely my jeans are not changing sizes on
their own, are they? The size twelves are too big indeed. I have some size
fourteens hanging around, but I don't know why. Maybe I think I'll balloon
back up to a size fourteen and they'll come in handy? 

 

Today I woke up fat, but not so much. I put on my standard size ten Gap
jeans, which are entirely different than my standard size ten Levi jeans,
and are the only jeans I've found that are long enough to wear heels with,
because there is nothing more fashionable than wearing stilettos with jeans,
is there? (I don't wear stilettos - I wear simple faux-alligator pumps with
a bit of a heel that make a cool clacking noise when I walk, which generates
an air of authority and presence.) Anyway, the size ten Gap jeans fit fine.
Except that after an hour the butt is sagging. The size twelve Gap jeans are
not fit for work as they're much too large, so I wear them in more
appropriate situations. Lounging, shopping, eating enormous meals that
require extra waist room, things like that.

 

I need a belt, but that's not really the point here. The point is, sometimes
I wake up fat. And sometimes I don't. And I have a rotating program of size
tens and twelves, with the twelves being too big and the size tens usually
being the best size, except when they're not. The size tens
bought-in-the-jr-section that my teenage sister-in-law can refer to as, "I
have jeans like that," the ones with the pink polka dots on the inside
lining of the pockets and the embellishments on the rear pockets, those fit
on those occasions when I haven't been indulging overly much in things I
should not be indulging in, certainly not at my advanced age. The Levi's
size tens are reliable for fitting, as are the Gap jeans, but whether they
be tens or twelves, they're prone to get big, and then I must wash them in
hot water and shrink them again. At those times I feel like the Incredible
Shrinking Woman, which, given my size, seems rather preposterous.

 

Last night at our standard Wednesday night dinner with Robin, this week at
Outback, we pondered the possibility of dessert. "No!" I said quite
forcefully, "if I eat THAT (which could have referred to any one of several
dessert items) I'll NEVER fit it into my wedding dress!" 

 

Peals of laughter followed this. I am told that being as said wedding is
over a year away, and I have yet to pick out a dress, much less a location,
color scheme, etc, etal, this should not be a concern. I don't care. Unless
I can exchange my perfect size ten wedding dress for a perfect size twelve
wedding dress within hours of said wedding, this is a concern. Not a major
concern. I could get married in a tent and it wouldn't matter, not really,
except for the pictures which would show an enormous amount of material that
our children could later, years later, get a good laugh from, but I rather
expect as the date approaches I'll want to look presentable. In something
that fits. What can I say? I'm a girl. We're weird.

 

All of this has been to say absolutely nothing of importance. In the overall
scheme of things, it doesn't matter if I wake up fat or not, or if I show up
at my wedding in a tent or in size sixteen jeans. The important thing is
that I wake up, and that I show up.