Stretched... Thin

Otherwise known as.... An Economic Conspiracy

Today I was standing by our extraordinary assistant's desk (one assistant... four counselors... a gagillion parents-- she is a tart-mouthed saint) when she offered me some M&Ms from an adorable teapot-turned-jar on her desk.  Jen, you're losing more weight.  I looked down at my waist.

Really?  I'm not trying.  Didn't she read my post about multiple doughnut consumption?  Doesn't she know how many trips I make to my co-counselor's candy stash? Or how long it has been since I last broke a sweat?

I shouldn't be losing weight.  But I guess I am.  Or at least I know how to wear my clothes so that it looks like I am. 

I went shopping last Friday at Loft and Ann Taylor at a local outlet mall.  Everything I bought was a size small.  It feels weird shopping in the small section, but I maintain that I am not any smaller... I believe that stores have made sizes smaller so that shoppers will feel incredible for fitting into a smaller size and buy more. 

It's an economic conspiracy, I tell you!

Work is crazy busy at the moment... and I am afraid will continue to be until late May, when My Small Town High School holds our graduation ceremony.  Next week I have not one but three events to attend well past contract time. It makes me hurt just thinking about it.

Coming home and helping Mom deal with paperwork and such in the aftermath of Dad's passing compounds the problem.  I am... tired.

I've booked a session with my favorite massage therapist tomorrow night.  Maybe he can work out some of my knots, and for an hour I can relax and not worry so much about being stretched... thin.


Addendum:  The author really hates these whiny posts but she can't be any other way at the moment.  She hopes that her dear readers understand that this too shall pass.