I was having a loose jeans day on Friday. I was at work and I had to pull my belt to the fourth hole and I thought to myself, Those 4 lunch salads are already paying off!  I’ve probably lost 5 pounds through salads alone! Yay for me!

Cut to Saturday. I’m getting dressed to meet my family for lunch. It’s summer, but I’m putting on jeans because I have amazingly white legs and I haven’t shaved them so jeans are safer. For everyone.

I go to do my belt up and I seem to be able to pull it even further than on Friday. Could this be? Could I finally be losing weight magically with no effort like I always wanted?!

Nope.

I’m still as chubs as I ever was and my belt decided to prove that to me in a decidedly dickbaggish fashion.

Observe!

I had broken my belt. It was literally hanging on by an effing thread. Okay, two threads, but that’s not much better! What a kick in the vag!

Also, I spent the whole weekend packing, because we’re moving soon, and I didn’t get out to buy a new belt so today is going to consist of me walking around holding my pants up manually. Unless I can find some string, or I tape them to myself somehow.

Balls.

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