So, I've become aware that during the honeymoon I gained a bunch of weight. It was bound to happen - tons of buttery french bread, crepes for breakfast every day, lots of delicious cheese... not to mention the fact that all I wore the entire time I was there was caftans and bikinis. No wonder I didn't notice.
But then I came home and had to put on real clothes. And I swear to you, the only pair of jeans I own that wasn't unbearably tight (though still fitting), is the pair that was two sizes too big to begin with. Luckily I still need a belt for that one or I'd be really worried.
I only gained about 5 1/2 pounds of actual weight in the last three weeks, but it seems to have all gone directly to my stomach. It's genetic as well, I think - my grandmother was skinny her whole life but always had a potbelly. I need to stop doing dessert and do some sit ups, I really do. We'll see if I'm motivated enough.
I sent in yet another application for a theater job today, but I'm going to do my best not to think about it so that I will be pleasantly surprised if it happens. Because thinking about all the progress I am not making (coupled with the weight gain and the hair cut) is causing me to be very depressed.