Aaaarrrrrgggghhhh!!!!!
I got my new fancy-schmancy modern digital scale this afternoon. And I was all excited to try it out. So I stepped on expecting to see my 115ish weight. When SHI!T: the reading came up 118.8! One eighteen point eight (really 119)? Almost 120? I thought I was PAST all that. It's like starting over, for Christ's sake! And I had freakin' spinach again for lunch. Dang -- a whole week of dieting and workouts shot to Hell.
I guess I should be looking for a positive here -- I probably really weighed like 123 when I started this gig, so I've still lost a few pounds. But I was obviously even fatter than I thought. This is shocking and depressing, folks. Clearly this dieting gig is not easy or fun.
So, do I send back the new scale and pretend like it never happened? Or do I forge ahead, stronger and more determined than ever: "Yeah, yeah, (or is it Hey, hey?) I will survive." Am considering a Rocky-style training regimine where I actually get out of bed early in the morning and trot around the neighborhood in gray sweats and a hoodie. Ouch, that's desperate. And unlikely. Although I might try it if I could punch out some dead cows or something. Sigh. I suck at dieting. Or maybe dieting just sucks. Or getting old sucks. Sucks rocks. Big. Dirty. Rocks.
Okay, I'm over it. Back to the dieting. Schitt.
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