I’ll say this here, because I can’t possibly say it to Doc, again, without sounding mean. I do not like soup. I do not eat soup, except on rare occasions. I do not like the soups that we have. I like potato leek soup. That said, history, both recent and past, have shown that when I am forced to eat something I don’t like, I reflexively throw it up. So it’s just wasted food.
Doc has not done the shopping since he got his new shift. He has done some shopping, getting milk and a few other items, but nothing on my list of things I want to eat. And he keeps going so late that the deli is closed and he can’t get sandwich stuff for me, which is the easiest thing for me to get my calories from. I’m mad about this, but I can’t say anything without hurting his feelings and bringing on an onslaught of excuses. Mainly that he is in pain. But he won’t go to a doctor to see about the pain, so it’s just this long-running joke now, he’s always in pain, he can’t do anything, blah blah blah. And he won’t do anything about it.
Doc and I teamed up to give me a rather drastic undercut on my hair. I love it. I have the freedom of short hair, and still have my vanity, my long hair. I am so much cooler, temperature-wise. And the hair is easier to care for, of course, and so much easier and faster to straighten. It just looks funny curly now.
And I’m still steadily losing weight. I’m a solid 36″ waist now. 2 more inches to go. And that’s mainly off my stomach and love handles. But my stomach is shrinking, I no longer look pregnant in the wrong shirts. And I found a couple of my favorite shirts I haven’t been able to wear because fat. And I found one shirt that I bought almost three years ago that I thought was too small for me. Then yesterday I figured out that it stretched really easily and evenly, so I got to wear it. It’s the only scoop neck thing I have, I think it looks like a “mom shirt”, but hey, no one saw me but you guys and all of Facebook.