Drop it like it's hot

If you're female, you understand what kind of havoc a date will wreak on your brain and your body. If it's one you really want to end well, usually you don't eat for four days beforehand, you have to slap yourself out of daydreams a few times an hour and you're constantly figuring out ways to check if you've got something in your teeth without yanking out your hand mirror.


"Do I have something in my teeth?"

But, if that date goes well, suddenly your entire eating habits change, mostly because you're so happy there's no need to eat more than necessary. Food becomes fuel, not a source of comfort for your lonely, pitiful life.
The last time I started dating somoene I dropped 10 pounds just from worrying about stupid things, like eating in front of him. (It's me at my most nerve-wracked.)
But then you're there and he's not a prince. He's just a guy, and you have to remind yourself that you've handled foreign countries single-handedly; he's just a guy. You've got this.


I look good with long hair.

And then WHAM! The next day you're back to being a bottomless pit.
The good part about my situation is that not only did Date 1 go well, but the day after is gym day. So no matter how much I want him to text me today, at the end of the workday I get to throw on skin-tight pants and hit the proverbial pavement to keep my mind off my phone.
The bad part is that I have to wait until this weekend to see him again, and in between now and then I have to appear aloof, and undecided, because a woman who knows what she wants simply isn't done.
And no, that's not bad grammar.
I know how foolish that is; I know I shouldn't do it, but I'm a little ruined on relationship-instinct, thanks to one giant douchebag.
In any case, I went to buy a new pair of jeans for this date, mainly because "the pair" are old and need a belt cinched 5 holes to stay up. I got to the store, tried on a slew and had to go back to the racks because the ones I tried on were all too big.
Yes, there's still a big, shit-eating grin on my face.
(I never understood that description. Why smile while you're eating shit? Why eat shit?)
I ended up buying a pair of jeans TWO sizes smaller than my normal!
I think it's partly weight loss and partly finding a designer who sizes a tad larger than most. But in any case my svelte ass is now encased in a pair of 8s that I haven't taken off since I bought them.
I started going the gym mainly for my sister's wedding, but also, I think, because I knew it was my time. My time to date and to buy smaller jeans for those dates.
I said I wouldn't use a scale, and I still haven't stepped on one yet.
But seeing results in the form of smaller pants is the best reward for my success.
That, and Date No. 2.