Am I wearing the pants, or are they wearing me?

Ha ha, I'm in such a stupid mood today. Apologies in advance for this post. Essentially, I was once again perusing my wardrobe in the hope the something unworn and wonderful would leap out at me to wear tonight (this did not happen), when I can across my old work pants. Sportsgirl size 14.

I remember when I purchased these a year and a half ago, in August 2007. I'd just returned from overseas, where I had lost 5 kgs (although this went unmeasured, as I was too scared to get on the scales at the time - I just guessed because I'd gotten skinnier), and I squished myself into these pants in a Sportsgirl changeroom. 'Hurrah!' I mentally screamed, I had reclaimed my size 14 figure! Between then and April 2008 I fit into these pants in differing degrees of comfort, sometimes painfully tight, sometimes deceptively loose. I haven't thrown them away for that reason - they are my only measurement of where I've come from.

So, as I dragged them out of the wardrobe, and pulled them on without needing to unbutton or unzip them, I remembered just how far I've come. I've forgotten that lately, as I've struggled with the two kilos between me and WW LTM GW rather than remembering the 14kgs I've already lost.

In another changeroom the other day I fit into a pair of size 8 jeans. Albeit they weren't loose on me, and I wasn't going to buy them (didn't look so great), I mentally 'hurrah'ed myself again for another milestone achieved. Single digit pant size, amazing.

And I'm a liar, by the way. I didn't weigh in yesterday or today. My scales are still stuck, although I'm trying something new to get me off my comfy plateau, stay tuned.