Swim on little manadee....

I haven't written a post for a while and now it seems that I've got writers block. I always told my students just to start writing even if it meant they had to ramble on for three pages. Eventually, your brain will settle on what it wants to talk about. I suppose I could start with telling you about my pants. Not the impossible pants, just my regular pants. I put on my slacks this morning and realized they are too big. These pants have an elastic waist band and, for the better part of two years, I put that elastic to the test. Today, they drooped. At least an inch of my super attractive pink granny panties were hanging out the top, but luckily, my shirt was long enough to cover everything up. I had no choice but to wear the pants as all my slacks seem to have developed this condition (thank god I now work at a desk job and can sit for most of the day).
I know I should be happy about this, maybe even ecstatic, but for some reason, I just can't seem to muster the appropriate "Woohoo!" I think it's because I'm still between sizes and, despite the fact that these slacks are very loose, I can't officially buy the next size down with any confidence. Also, I broke the 240 plateau only to get stuck at 237. Ok, the voice of Carol Kane is now bitch slapping me like Ebeneezer Scrooge. 
I've lost 17 pounds, 5 inches off my waist, and 4 inches off my hips. This is a freaking accomplishment. I have packed a lunch everyday for the last two weeks. This is a freaking accomplishment. I've gotten on the treadmill everyday, kept my sinks clean, cooked dinner, stayed in my calorie budget most days (excluding Easter), and gotten a job. These are all accomplishments that I am proud of. I may not be like all the other manatees, but that's ok. I'm a manadee, and that's even better.