Er. Wow.

So I knew I’d been losing weight. I lost my appetite for a while, then there was the major life decision and the move and the empty fridge and the busy-doing-stuff days and nights. There was painting and packing and unpacking and more unpacking.

Somewhere, in the middle of all of this, I lost a little more than 20 pounds. I knew my smaller jeans fit and my work pants were loose, but I hadn’t bothered with a scale in a while.

20 pounds. Over about 5 weeks.

I know this is on the borderline of unhealthy. I have decided to ignore that because I have not been depriving myself or making myself puke or attempting the coffee and peanuts diet. I’ve just eaten only when I’m hungry, and I tend to make sure what I eat is worth it.

For the record, baby carrots are always worth it. So is nonfat french vanilla yogurt.

Yikes. 20 pounds. Imagine what might happen when I get up to my rooftop gym…