Vanity, thy name is woman

I may have bragged boasted mentioned that I have lost twenty pounds - which took about a year, because I did it by changing when I eat, so it was a slow loss.

Apparently, from looking in the mirror, eighteen of those twenty pounds were lost in my neck.

Gobble, gobble.

My neck looks like crepe paper, and not in a good way.

I've become obsessed with it. When I look in the mirror, it's all I can see.

At first, I thought, well, I'll stop looking in the mirror.

But if you eat spinach, that's a bad idea.

So I have started fantasizing about having my neck done. 

Except I'm terrified of anesthesia, since the one and only time I ever had anesthesia I woke up to my life being changed forever. That wasn't in a good way, either.

I'm also terrified of nerve damage. I have neuropathy in my lower body. I can't imagine how much more horrible it could get with it in my upper body too.

And a hack job. I'd hate to look worse than I already do!

And, oh, yeah. Money. I imagine it costs a bit to get  your neck fixed.

Oh, well. What's a few wrinkles/turkey neck/crepe papery skin among friends? 

Sigh.