As my faithful readers know, I've been really unhappy about the fact that I stepped on the scale last Thursday morning and weighed 241, only to find myself peaking at 247 three days later.
I've been going nuts, trying to figure out what the hell I did wrong. Despite all my whining last week about craving ice cream, I didn't allow myself the humongous bowl of vanilla ice cream with caramel sauce, and I've really been making an effort to stay on plan. I haven't binged, so the numbers I'm seeing on the scale have been pretty darned upsetting.
It's one thing to binge and know that you deserve the crappy numbers on the scale. It's another thing to be good and see crappy numbers anyway.
I've been really obsessing on the numbers. I've really made a point to exercise more and eat a lot less. I've also been making a point not to eat late at night, and two days ago I deliberately skipped dinner because I had to be somewhere and didn't get back until after 9:00 PM. I figured it was better to go to bed hungry than stuff my face right before sleeping. (And, for a change, I wasn't really all that hungry.)
So I've been working really hard. I've been counting every calorie. When in doubt, I count the calories higher and shoot for the lower end of my daily acceptable range. I'm doing my best...somehow this has got to pay off... I've been weighing myself twice a day, hoping that will somehow, magically, force the numbers lower.
Last night, I stepped on the scale fully clothed with my pet macaw sitting on my shoulder. (The macaw got there because my SO handed to her to me just as I was stepping up, and she stayed there because you don't tell macaws to get off when they want to be on.) There I was playing scale lottery again, hoping for some winning numbers.
Holy cow, I hit the jackpot! 239 lbs.
At first, I jumped up and down and did a little happy dance. I was down almost 7 lbs from my morning's weigh-in. My SO stepped on the scale and discovered a similar weight loss.
My eyes narrowed. Wait a second...
As much as I'd like to think I lost 7 lbs in a day, I didn't think that the number was possible or realistic considering I was wearing my clothes and my macaw. "There's gotta be something wrong with the scale," I muttered.
I was mad. My brand-new, two-month-old, and very expensive digital scale was malfunctioning.
"Could it be the batteries?" asked my SO.
We went in search of a new set of batteries. I took off all my clothes ditched the macaw and weighed again. My weight was 246 lbs.
You could hear my screams echoing throughout the neighborhood.
(Expletive deleted) batteries!
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1 comment:
ha! reminds me of when i did my very first weigh in at my mother's house. something was drastically wrong with her scale. it registered me at 287...oh what a dark place that was. seriously. 13 lbs away from 300. i knew that i had to do something...that there was no way i could continue down this path...i got my new scale and lost 13 lbs! lol.......still too close to 300, but not as close as 287 was.
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