The scale has not moved in a month but that's par for the course since it usually takes me about a month to move the scale. Plus, I see the telltale signs of weight loss. There's a looseness in my pants and my new glasses no longer hug my face.
I was relieved to find my beloved MP3 player under a mountain of clothes. I have yet to deal with old clothing. I really shouldn't keep my larger clothes around but I've toyed with the idea of having some items altered. My taste in clothing has changed though. I find myself drawn to flower, leopard, paisley and zebra patterns and, sometimes, a combination of two patterns. My swimming cohort refused to go with me yesterday once she heard me coughing. That unidentified doctor is right about the inability to shorten a cold. Mine is waning but still hanging in there and it's almost been a week and I've been downing all manner of Emergen-C, ginger tea and, still, my body produces impressive amounts of mucous.
Instead of my usual Friday night swimming, I watched the French flick The Grocer's Son while nursing a hot cup of Holiday Plum Spice tea. The movie was pretty good if you like laid-back foreign flicks that emphasize relationships.