Friday Weigh-In
I hate my scale. I hate my scale. I hate my scale.
No, the numbers weren’t up this morning when I stood on it. But they weren’t down, either, despite having actually — gasp! — exercised four days this week, consumed more water than a fish, and watched every little bite that went into my mouth.
OK, except for last night but that dinner was so spicy that I’m pretty certain I burned off most of the calories flopping my hand around like a fan to keep my face from sweating.
Look, I wasn’t expecting the numbers on my scale’s dial to start moving downward so fast they’d set off radar detectors or anything, but I was expecting some loss. Even one little pound would have been nice. One measly pound. But nooooooo.
I hate my scale. I hate my scale. I hate my scale.
4 Responses to “Friday Weigh-In”
You know what it is? It is all that fat fighting because it is about to flushed away! I swear! I have the same problem so I am helping it along with wine. Fat hates wine.
In fact, wine is the answer to every problem… ever!
I’m out of wine. ::whine::
Think vodka might do the trick?
Absolutely! Anything that makes the fat dizzy!
That must be why they call it “stubborn fat”.