Thursday, August 07, 2008


The other day I hauled the scale out from where it had been hiding under the green cupboard thingie that I use to store all the bits and pieces of random fabric that I have somehow accumulated through my life and am saving for just that perfect moment when I, you know, need a random piece of fabric. Granted, the random piece of fabric I pull out will not ever, ever be the right size but them's the breaks in this crazy thing called life and anyway, that's how I managed to recover the couch cushions on one side since the specifically bought for the couch fabric wasn't, of course, big enough. However. The green thingie does not matter here; what matters is the scale.

I took it out and wiped the dust and dog fur off (Theo is currently shedding enough collie fur to create a whole new dog every two days) and replaced the battery and weighed myself for the first time in, um, a bit more than a year? A year and a half? A while, anyway, since it was indubitably the first time I ever weighed myself in this house and I've lived here for 15 months now. I was heartened to see that in the last 15 month I had lost four pounds. YEAH! FOUR POUNDS! Okay, that's not anywhere near enough.

So I decided to weigh myself every single day for a week and I've been more or less doing that with the somewhat disheartening result that in any given 48 period I can apparently lose three pounds, gain two, lose one, gain four and so on. This morning I weigh three pounds more than I did a week ago and that must be stopped. It could all be stopped, I know, if I would stop drinking beer every single night. To that end, I've switched to Michelob Light, which is so appalling tasting that I can only bear to drink like two before I lose interest in ever drinking beer again and, actually, life in general. Still, you would think that all the time I spend eating horrible diet frozen entrees and walking the dogs and never eating sweets (those two tablespoonfuls of ice cream out of the freezer didn't count because no bowl was used) and so on would net me an actual weight loss instead of this holding steady at 30 pounds overweight thing. But apparently, no, I am destined to be not just old but old and fat, and now I'm anxiously awaiting the moment where I will find that freeing instead of depressing.

1 comment:

Asheville JJ said...

Oh no Michelob Light? So sad in this town of great beers! I feel for you. I too have seen some extra of me lately and do believe that my drinking the local brews every Saturday night at my favorite watering hole could be a factor. So I am cutting back, but its so hard.
You also mentioned a shedding Collie. I too have a Collie that should be bald now after all the hair that has come off of him. Silly me, I went for the short haired version thinking he would shed less than my Golden Retreiver, Nope, worse, much worse. Is it a Collie thing?