Oh Scale, How I Love to Hate You...And Why We Must Part Ways.

My best friend, the scale, is once again being completely honest with me.  I ventured into the bathroom at 6:30am to strip down to nothing but my socks to stand on the head of the monster, and this is what appeared, the same exact weight as last week.  But here is the clincher, since last week all of my clothes are looser...even jeans that have always been tight are bigger through the waist and thighs.  But my thighs aren't quite so thunderous now, so my clothes are slowly starting to fit better!

Which is why I must say goodbye to my comrade, the scale...at least for about a month.  I don't see the point in torturing myself every week if I know that things are changing.  Why stare in the ugly face of the monster bright and early every Monday morning just to be given an obscure number that can fluctuate for the craziest reasons?  I'm not going to say goodbye forever, just for about 4 weeks.  (If it doesn't budge in 4 weeks I might have to chuck the thing through the window and drive over it with the front wheel of trusty Ford Edge.)