Curse you Bathroom Scale

scaleOk, here is a disclaimer.

I have hypothyroidism, and several joints that don’t work near as well as they used to. Allergies, and mild asthma round out the list of fun things that keep me off the exercise bandwagon more. Add being over 50, possibly menopausal, and the task is just that much harder Losing weight has only been accomplished in the past ten years by losing a body part… a uterus and its resident squatters. Of course that was only temporary. This time around, I know its going to take a long time, and an acre of celery, but I’m determined to try to get a little healthier.

Since I started the project of “Make Less of Sylvie” I’ve noticed a weight reduction once in the past 7 week. That’s right one time. Granted it was a big drop a few weeks ago. Nine pounds over night. I never have figured out how that happened. Of course I didn’t complain, but instead felt I was on the right track, so I’ve done well on keeping under my calorie goals…most of the time.

Well this morning, I got on the scale, and those nine little fuckers had returned. I weighed myself three times too. I just know that little square of metalics and springs has been snickering all day long.

Sigh.

 

 

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2 Replies to “Curse you Bathroom Scale”

  1. Scales lie, crappy little bastids that they are. They’re also irrelevant. They can’t differentiate between fat pounds gained and muscle pounds gained, or water pounds retained. They just spew a number at you and cackle evilly.

    They also provide an incredibly inaccurate representation of how awesome you are, how beautiful you are, how kind and funny and sweet and smart and motivated and strong-willed and capable you are, too.

    Don’t share your dessert with the scales.

    Liked by 1 person

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