Finding out that you can no longer fit into your old size 6 and not even in the next size up. And in less than a month too.

Now that's scary. And we are talking about the same variables here: same brand, same design. Just on sale at 50% off the usual price.

So now I am peering into the mirror and noticing the flabby saddle bags and the slightly pudgy tummy. Bleah.

I suppose I have to wait until I get home to diet and exercise. I promised the brat she could design a diet for me when I get home. It seems that no one else in the family is glad for her expertise on food & nutrition, so she actually turned figurative cartwheels when I agreed to submit to her tyrannical reign.

My dad just helps himself to more ice-cream from the fridge when my sister refuses to serve him a second helping on the grounds that it is bad for his cholestrol and weight. He has also started sneaking food around from under the brat's nose, so that he doesn't have to hear a whiny lecture on healthy eating.

My mom just shrugs and points out to the brat that if my dad is deprived during dinner and dessert, he will just snack more.

Hence my sister is anticipating my return so I can start my tenure as her guinea pig.

Speaking of rodents, there is an awfully cute mouse on the third floor of the college dorm. Unfortunately, it is a rodent. But it isn't one of those bubonic carrying fleabags. It is a timid field mouse. As to how it got up to the third floor, I have no idea.