another pound down…

nearly halfway to the finish line.

Just slow and steady. I haven’t weighed this little since the 1970′s.

Size 12 jeans, my friends. Size 12. They’re stretch—so it’s cheating. But the size 14′s were sliding off.

We’re continuing the same campaign. Breakfast is small serving of sausage and eggs. Lunch is a frozen Atkins dinner or Atkins bar. Sensa is helping us beat the munchies. And supper is one of the following, each: a hamburger patty topped with cheese and sometimes bacon and sometimes jalapeno, served with half a steamer-bag of broccoli or green beans, cauliflower broccoli mix, or brussel sprouts. Or chicken strips heated with oil and rolled in parmesan cheese, served over broccoli. Or chicken strips cooked with cheese, spices, jalapenos and canned chilis, dusted with taco spice. Or chicken strips with bamboo strips, veggies, and a tablespoon of curry sauce and coconut milk. Or 1 piece breaded fish with half a packet of steamed veggies and a side of mayo/lime juice/dill. And sometimes, for one of our ‘lighter’ suppers, a dessert: half cup of ricotta mixed with coconut or maple flavoring and enough Splenda to make it sweet.

And it sure makes a difference. We can’t go pig out now. We have to get one dinner and split it or bring half home. Our total food demand has sunk below the serving sizes of our favorite restaurant, and this is a Good Thing. We can have wine or rum now and again, Champagne now and again.

And size 12 is about as low as my jeans size goes: my height and bone structure dictates that. Maybe a 10, since I understand manufacturers have moved the target, but likely a 12. So the local clothes bank is going to get some more outfits.

Yay me!