Calendar Girl.

So, yesterday I mentioned a couple of things that I find troubling.

One, I’m still hanging on to smaller-sized clothes.  Why?  Well, clearly, because I’m under the impression I may spontaneously lose weight and fit into them again.  There can’t be any other answer.  I’m not starting a clothing museum, I’m not expecting a tapeworm anytime soon, and there is no smaller-sized naked person living in my house who needs clothing.  So, if I’m keeping them, I’m keeping them for some future, thinner version of me, right?

Two, I’m weighing again.  Not necessarily multiple times a day (though not necessarily not multiple times a day) and not always daily, but the scale has taken up its former residence in my bathroom and been reintroduced to the morning routine.  I’ m not living and dying by it, bu what’s it doing for me?  What information am I seeking from it that I can’t tell by how I’m feeling?  If I feel bloated and like my skin is too tight, then I don’t need the scale to tell me I’m probably heavier that particular day.  But damned if I don’t drag myself onto it anyway.

The barbarians are always at the gate, aren’t they?  You can fight one battle after another, and even if you win a lot of them, it doesn’t stop the war.  And if I lay down my weapons and my armor and assume that because I’ve won a couple of battles, I’ve won the war?  Then I’m setting myself up to lose everything.

I can’t let these little habits, these little dieting behaviors, creep back in.  I’m not willing to lose this war.

So, I’m setting a date, because I love the feeling of a deadline and how a timetable makes things feel so tidy.

October 16.  That will be 6 months from the End of the Diet.  My body size hasn’t changed since the latter part of June, and I’m feeling pretty settled into this range.  By October 16, I expect I’ll have a pretty good idea of where my natural weight range is and so by that date, two things are going to happen.

First, I’m going through every last item of clothing that still lives in my house and anything that doesn’t fit and feel good as of that day leaves the house.  That includes things that almost fit, sort-of fit, fit but are uncomfortable, fit but make me feel lumpy and weird, or look like they belong on someone else.

Second, I’m finding a permanent home for my scale.  That permanent home must require me getting in a car and driving more than 5 miles in order to access the scale.  Because I’m lazy and would never do that, I think that’s fairly safe.

So.  October 16.  That’s the plan.