Early this year, I took my measurements. Something I’d never done before. But it was time.
I thought, aha, now I know my “true size.” The numeric one. Great, so now I can order things from the Internet with some modicum of success. Or walk into the store and not have to take four different sizes into the dressing room. Right?
Not so much. But whatever. I have every size in the world at home for skinny days and fat days.
But while I haven’t been losing pounds per se this past month, apparently I lost a couple inches without realizing it.
Got dressed in the dark today. Was looking for something beige to wear with a blue shirt.
Grabbed a skirt. Huge. Hmm. Grabbed another. Better but enh. Sitting in the car for the commute would pound out the waist enough to irritate me all day. Grabbed a third … perfect!
Took a gander at the size later. It’s that so-called “true size” I’d identified three months ago. Hah. Go, me.