It’s funny how the smallest things are the ones that I tend to focus on the most. It’s kind of like when you have a rock in your shoe. It feels like it is a boulder destroying your foot but when you stop to empty your shoe you realize it was just a little pebble that was causing so much aggravation.
My whole life seems to be like that. The world could be crumbling down around me in a smoldering heap of radioactive waste and I’ll be worried because a light bulb in the bathroom is burned out.
I’ve tried to analyze my personality to understand why I let these seemingly trivial things bother me so much but I have yet to find the deep seeded personality flaw that causes it. It’s probably just as well that I don’t know what triggers that or it would end up on my list of things I have to fix before going any farther in my life.
Having now been on this diet for over four weeks and counting I am starting to actually see results. It’s not just my immediate family who is noticing either. People who I have not seen for a while are starting to comment saying how great I look. With these positive results though I have a new minor annoyance that has been driving me crazy; my belt.
Over the course of the last four weeks my weight has been reducing and most of it seems to be coming off my legs and my waist. As a result my jeans have gone from being rather snug to now looking like I should be in a street gang with the baggy clothes the gang members wear.
It’s not just the bagginess that’s the problem; I am having a hard time keeping them up. It seems like every 2 minutes I have to adjust my pants. Normally I wear a belt with my jeans but over the past month I have slowly had to move from one hole to the other to keep my pants up.
I have now gone beyond the littlest belt hole and my belt is still too big! So now not only do I have to adjust my pants but I have to adjust my belt too. It’s driving me crazy!
The final straw was at Dakota’s soccer match when I was sitting on the sidelines taking pictures of the game. I would shoot a couple of photos then have to change position to get the next shot. Before I knew it I was leaving my pants behind.
In my frustration I sent Trina a text, “We either need to get me a new belt or I am going to have to become a plumber.” We all know that crack kills so a belt was definitely the better alternative. Trina suggested another pair of Levis but I am only half way to my goal and I really don’t want an intermediate size.
So for now I’ll celebrate with a new belt with a brand new set of holes that I can mark my progress. I’m not sure who is happier about that – me or all the people sitting behind me at the soccer match.
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