I thought I was long out of the Forest of Crazy, but stuff just keeps cropping up. It isn't disabling, but it is disconcerting.
Poundage has returned--not all of it, but enough to make me physically uncomfortable. That's partly because I refuse to buy larger clothes. Why humor this damn fat? I will be cruel to it; perhaps that will help hurry it on its way now that I'm paying attention again to what goes in my mouth.