Pretty Little Red Corset
Today's Weight 208.0lbs
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I’m definitely getting the upper hand in my on-going battle with the weighing scales. Yesterday I had a char grilled smoked gammon steak and salad for dinner, and this morning the scales punished me with a 1.5lb gain, bringing me to a total of 2lbs gained in as many days. In a previous existence I’d have been devastated, and probably allowed my disappointment to knock me off the wagon. Nowadays, I’m older and wiser, and I know the scale is lying. And ‘cos I know it’s lying, it’s powerless to upset me. I am utterly serene. You could probably poke me with a sharp stick and I wouldn’t bat an eyelid. There’s no way in the world that I’ve eaten 7000 excess calories in the past 48 hours, so it’s simply not ‘fat gain’, and must just be water gain from the high sodium content in the gammon. Thank the Lord I didn’t add capers and pickles to my salad! All I have to do is increase my intake of water for the next couple of days (glug, glug) and it’ll right itself by the weekend.
At least, it better bloody right itself, or I’m taking a sledgehammer to the fucking scales! Heh heh, only kidding!
I’ve been fantasising lately about the sort of clothes I’ll be wearing when I get to goal, and I’m sad to say that the item of clothing I’m most looking forward to wearing is a pair of Levi 501s. That’s not very exciting is it? It shows a woeful lack of imagination. But I’ve NEVER owned a pair of Levis – my jeans experience to date is of wearing hideous fat-lady-shop generic brands, the kinds made with gruesome ‘stretch denim’, that lack belt loops and proper zips, and often have fake pockets, or no pockets at all. Small wonder I've avoided them like the plague for the last 20 years. So it’ll be a thrill to own a pair of Levis, and to be able to walk in them without that whispery swish-swish-swish sound of denim rubbing against demin as my fat thighs rub together – man, I’m so looking forward to that!
I guess next on the list would be nice feminine lingerie. Something a bit floozyish and racy, and a million miles from sensible. I’m not particularly yearning for undies reminiscent of dental floss, razoring up my arse crack, but I would like to be able to ditch the big knickers and the industrial-grade edifice designed to keep my unruly udders in check, and switch them for something a little sexier. Hell, I may even buy a set of red lingerie - or even a lacy red basque!
