I decided to try something today.
Back in the dark days of last year (which would be summer, which technically wasn’t dark but as darker for me, for reasons I’m about to explain) I had gained so much weight that my corset no longer fit. My jeans really didn’t fit–putting them on and buttoning them was akin to tightly belting the Stay-Puft marshmallow man–and big t-shirts were my only friend.
But…I have lost 22 pounds since then. I weigh almost as little I did when the hubs and I got together, almost as little as I did on our wedding day. Of course, thanks to having two babies the topography of that fat has moved–less up top, more in the middle, as it were–but still. I look in the mirror and am fairly pleased.
(Oooh, I am especially pleased since, remember that new moisturizer I bought a few weeks back? The, ah, anti-aging one? No more dry skin!!! My forehead is smooth again. It’s a delight to behold.)
So I decided to get out my corset, the one that didn’t fit anymore back in September.
It fits again. Not only does it fit, it fits a little too easily! I wasn’t even that tightly laced and had pure black in back, baby. (This is a reference to the “modesty panel, which is a couple of inches of cloth the same color as the corset which goes under the laces to keep your skin from showing.) So I wore it out to the grocery store. Of course, the effect was ruined by the fact that it’s freezing outside so I had to keep my coat on and buttoned (it snowed on and off all day yesterday, and some of it even stuck). But I knew it was there!
I’m very excited about this. Very excited indeed. I’m actually thinking it may be time soon to get a new, smaller corset. Wheee!
And I owe it all to calorie counting. I love calorie counting, which is odd considering how much I usually dislike math. But calorie counting is fun for me, really. I love figuring out how much I can eat and making little trade-offs with myself. Like, say, skipping dessert and having a vodka tonic instead. It feels very orderly, and I like orderly. It’s also very easy. I don’t have to follow some weirdo plan that’s usually filled with foods I hate or am allergic to (like mushrooms or red peppers or, I don’t know, fussy little salsas of every variation). I can cook for the whole family and just eat less than they do. I can still have candy and booze, which are both very important parts of my regular diet.
And it occurred to me, as I started tallying up my daily count in my head, that this is how I write as well. I keep it all in my head. I allocate certain places in the book for certain events to happen. I tick things off like a list, plant hints and clues like I’m laying in a supply of Jaffa cake bars for later (they’re like 139 calories per bar, which is awesome.) They give me the same kind of in-control shivers of happiness, planning my books and planning my meals.
I’m not obsessed with food or anything. I realize that all my talk of planning meals and being in control can sound a little eating-disordery. But I assure you that’s not the case. It’s just something to do, something else (like writing) to help me plan my days.
And now I can lace my corset again, which is almost as good as finishing a book. Almost.
I’ve been thinking of doing metrics again…maybe I need the kick in the butt, because work on UG2 is going slooow.