I Saw Myself in Forty Years and It Ain't Pretty!

While adopting (or trying to) a new healthier way of eating, I had to scrutinize the pots and pans in my pantry. Because pans that are hard to clean because they have scuff and scratch marks, are not used and therefore useless.

Yes, that's why I have not lost weight. Bad pans.

I promptly threw my two pans out and was left with one cake pan. That was two months ago. A sensible person would have run out and bought a new one, maybe ordered two pans online.

But no, I had to almost burn my whole apartment down to get the job done..

I was steaming some brussel sprouts and grabbed the hot pan with a cloth napkin I had stolen from The Beverly Hills Hotel. Having not shut the burner off, it promptly caught fire and I had to drop the burning cloth on my hardwood floors and douse water all over it.

Note to self, "Don't be shocked if you don't get your rental deposit back."

So off to Marshalls I go because I love a bargain and I love even more that they have a nice selection of Cuisinart pans with non-stick cancer causing Teflon. Sold!

Of course, I can't be at Marshalls without perusing the clothes.

I'm looking at a cute hot pink sleeveless number that would probably fit over one of my shoulders in about forty pounds when I see a woman... maybe 60, or 65... okay, maybe 70, (I'm not good with
numbers). She is holding up a pair of pants that might fit over one of her hips in about forty pounds and exclaiming to her friend, "Maybe I should just get them. I can hang them in the corner until I lose the weight."

And that's when I realize that I am seeing me, at Marshalls, in forty years.

I buy things that don't fit and hang them in the corner. There they are, bathing suits and jeans and little summer dresses. It's like my bedroom has become some museum for my size 8 future.

But the more I keep adding to the collection of "Clothes That Will One Day Fit," the more crowded the room becomes, the more used to it I become, until all the jeans and bathing suits that are supposed to serve as a reminder, only fade into the background.

My shrink did once give me one great piece of advice. "Stop futurizing." It means, stop living in the future when I think I'll be thin, when I think I'll be worthy to dress better and look cute. I tried to put it into practice, but it never registered fully until I saw "Future Me" at Marshalls, buying herself pants that were four sizes too small and hoping that they would one day fit.

So, right there at Marshalls, I circled back my shopping cart to the place where I had found two of the cutest tops and exchanged my "future size" for my "now size." That felt good because now I can actually wear these tops this week instead of "date of unknown origin."

I even came home and packed up my clothing museum. Off it went, into a drawer.

Although, I'm not perfect. As I unloaded my new purchases from Marshalls, I had to laugh. There was just one "future me" shirt I could not resist. But only because it was the last one and on sale for $5.00. Tahari for $5.00! Intricate sequins! The most beautiful blue color that flatters every face and skin tone!

I know, I know. But progress, right? I'm a work-in-progress, people!


This blog is dedicated to veggie hot dogs with the works.

I Saw Myself in Forty Years and It Ain't Pretty!