I have new sympathy for all of you out there who have been slaves to the scale for lo these many years. I’ve made an effort over the past week to weigh myself each morning … and it’s already pissing me off. Yes, I weigh in at the same time each morning. No, I don’t have clothing on when I do it. Yes, it’s always pre-breakfast.
1) 4 pounds of variability over 7 days. That’s, like, more than 2%!
2) Steadily creeping up. With noise … but creep creep. All of a sudden I looked at my lunchtime half-cake and stick of butter and thought ‘wait … should I eat this?’ It’s draining the joy from my life!
Scales suck. I’m happily in-shape … as much so as I’ve ever been in my life … and yet looking at that implacable number glaring up at me from the floor … it makes me … sad.
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