Before heading to Vegas, I stepped on the scale at work, and saw 168. (If you've been following, that means I haven't budged in a couple months.) When I returned from Vegas, the scale said 170. I was not surprised. We did a few too many buffets while in the City of Sin. Sadly, overeating was probably the worst sin I was guilty of, but that's a different post...
Today, I stepped on that infernal scale again, and it responded with 167. Now, I should be happy to see it go down, but I am perplexed more than excited. Gaining 2 pounds while stuffing yourself silly for a week is believable. Losing 3 pounds in one week while eating healthily, and going to the gym regularly is a bit of a stretch. One pound - absolutely. Two pounds - maybe, depending on my water retention. Three?? That's 10,500 calories. That is equivalent to eating NOTHING for five days. I guarantee I ate a lot more than NOTHING.
Who all wants to bet that next Friday the scale will say 168 again?!?
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I fucking hate scales.
Monday, I went to the gym and was excited to see that not only had I lost my "buffet" weight (I gained 3 pounds myself), but had lot another pound and was down to like 133/132.5 or so.
Then, Friday, I go to the doctors, and they say I'm 138.5...
and the nurse says the scale reads "light" i.e, I'm a fatter cow than she wrote down!
fuckers.
I hate scales.
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