small thing, but I need to tell people who get it. Seventeen years ago they cut my wedding band off at the ER because of swelling, and it's lived in a little dish on the windowsill ever since. This morning I slid it on for no reason. It cleared my knuckle. It's actually loose — I can spin it.
I run a cafe, which is a daily willpower obstacle course. Scones out at 6am, tasting the soup, a regular bringing in cake she baked for us. For the last four months the only real change I've made is scooping my lunch into a small bowl instead of grazing over the prep counter, and sitting down in the back to eat it instead of standing up. That's the whole thing.
Down about 30 pounds. Down two jeans sizes, 18 to a 14. But the ring is what got me teary at 7am.
Can't wear it at work anyway — raw dough and rings don't mix — but it's back in the dish for a different reason now.
Anyone else got a non-scale moment that hit harder than the number?