I am shrinking. As of today, I weigh 13 pounds less than I did in January. It's slow going, and sometimes it's intensely depressing. Dieting is not fun. But the results make me so happy. I can see my ribs. I admire my ribs, twisting naked in front of the mirror, idly fingering them while sitting at work waiting for something to compile. My old clothes are all baggy on me. Just recently, I bought a couple pairs of pants in sizes I haven't seen in forever. I'm so amazed and proud of myself to discover that I can do this, that I can become skinny. I'm not there yet, but I'm approaching it, and I will get there. I feel like such a little person on the inside; it's about time I start looking like one on the outside.