Okay so it's been 20°C for about a week now, and it's started to be a problem for me.
Last year I had a surgical procedure to remove some of my stomach to lose weight.
Some will say it was the easy route, and I totally agree. The problem was, I'd been having health problems for around ten years now and in 2010 my quality of life had been seriously downgraded due to ovaries problems. An exploratory surgery later, there was nothing to do. But my doctor, well aware that I was in the process of,getting that stomach surgery said that the loss of weight could be a great step in retrieving a normal life. So he pushed a bit with the surgeon, and tadaaa! In February 2011 I was on the slab.
I lost 20 kilos in the 6 following weeks, and then...my great-aunt died. To some we seemed a close-knit family because there's not many of us, but the relationships are not that good. Somedays they're even shitty. But anyway, my aunt died, of cancer, and I was there with my mum and my grandma, and I swear it was one of the worst moments of my life.
Consequently, my weightloss stopped dead in its track and my morale was not that great.
I then proceeded to explain to my psychiatrist (and probably anyone who'd listen, sorry people) every twist and turn we had to make to get everything in order.
I vaguely started losing weight once I was back to my flat in September!
Since last year I had been in packing tape and boxes, I did not go shopping for new clothes. I did not need them to roll around in the dust of a big house full of junk.
So. Last week, when it hit the 20s, I discovered I had literally NOTHING that fit.
So this week end I went on a shopping spree. I hate clothes shopping, but I had to.
I tried on clothes like a machine, I spent a fortune, and at the end of the weekend I was ready to cry, my bank account was looking sick, and my room was full of clothes that I had nowhere to put since I hadn't cleared out the old ones. Yay!!
That crisis is never-ending...
