I tried on a couple of my suit skirts last week and they were so tight that I was hard-pressed to walk, let alone bend over.   Any effort to bend would undoubtedly result in the zipper completely pulling away from the fabric and flinging into space (and yes, I believe the pressure would be so great that it would be flung into orbit).  That my friends was the last straw. 

I mean seriously, what would I do if I dropped my keys in one of those skirts?  Can you imagine the contortions that would be involved in retrieving them?  I imagine it would look something like those circus shows you have to pay extra to see.

When one’s skirts have become this tight only two options are available.  Increase the size of the skirt or decrease the mass inside the skirt.  I have opted for the latter…a downsizing of sorts.  So for the past week I been actively engaged in mass reducing eating and activies – yes, yes, yes…more commonly known as diet and exercise.  I am determined in my quest to have skirts that don’t put me in jeopardy of embarrasing myself and scarring others’ psyches.

Well, here I am at the end of week one.  My scale tells me that I have lost 3.5 pounds so far.  Very nice…the mass does not seem to be getting any smaller, but I am feeling much better about my control over it.  Indeed, I even bounded up the little set of stairs in Putnam Hall today – yep, bounded!  This is case of mind over matter.

I saw a shirt once that said, "I don’t mind, because you don’t matter."  Well, my shirt should read, "I mind my matter!"  Truly, I am over it. 

I plan much of the same eating and activities for all the weeks to follow until my matter gets the message that in this case, less is more.  Please say a little prayer for my continued success and if I drop my keys, for heaven’s sake help a girl out (or at least be sensible enough to look away to save your psyche from being scarred).

Day two hundred and thirty-five of the new forty – obla di obla da

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