Hah! And what would I DO with it? Go grocery shopping? Sit in bumper-to-bumper traffic on the turnpike? Spend an inordinate amount of time washing and polishing it? See? The older I get, the less I’m worried about getting, it seems. Those things that I used to think of as status symbols just don’t interest me anymore. Oh, I like my creature comforts, to be sure, but I like what I like…I like what works for me; I’m not the slightest bit interested in whether anybody else covets it or not. That’s how I feel about losing weight. I’m not doing it to please anybody else…not DH, not anybody. I’m doing it because I want to do it, period. In fact, I’ve found that there are those - even in my own family - who are annoyed by my weight loss; who seem to relate to me differently. It’s like I’m losing weight just to point out that they’ve gotten too heavy. Which I’m not, of course. I had gotten too heavy, too. Deciding to do something about it was/is a personal choice - and it isn’t about anyone but me.