But I seem to be losing my grip in other areas.
As in: eating three meals a day at home means dishes means washing up more often than my carefree 'when I've gone through all my soy milk mugs' ie every fifth day. Why then did I have only one soy milk mug left this morning? You can't tell me I've washed no dishes since Saturday evening. On the other paw I can't remember when I last did laundry. If I were working I'd have a large hamperful of dark wash by now- one top and one tank top and one pair of socks per day, one pair of pants maybe every three days unless some loving infant grabs hold of me with a mucky hand during snack time. (The younger the child, the more likely this is to happen. Them babies is *fast*.) To be wearing the same clothes all week is unheard of.
Meanwhile the winds of early April rattle the windows. I'm... let us say, not displeased at having to stay at home. In ordinary times I'd be dragging my aching joints to work and fretting about not having lost weight for my surgery next month, and fretting about the logistics of that as well. And now: when and if the world goes back to normal it will all happen but it's very much crossing that bridge when I come to it. And, not to jinx things, I still weigh less than I did through the winter. If I keep on with this regime of veg and water I might just hit that low I only make if I'm shovelling snow twice a week (2014) or walking through snow daily (2019) or having a long term anxiety state (2015). Of course what I want is to be 7 kilos less than that low, or what I weighed in my 30s, but that's too much to hope for now.