Small-town check-in: I stopped at the pharmacy for a refill, and the tech had my insurance letter waiting—turns out the prior auth is good through next spring. Felt like a tiny win because I’ve been dreading another round of phone tag. Then I walked two doors down to the shoe repair/consignment place. I’ve lost 41 pounds over about 14 months, and my calves have always been the last place to get the memo. I tried on a pair of tall boots, size 8, shaft not wide-calf, and the zipper went all the way up. I didn’t buy them yet—I stood there doing a little calf flex in the mirror like a goober. My walking loop is up to three laps on Tuesdays, but that zipper felt like a real-life measurement. Anyone else had a fitting moment that hit harder than the number?