So. If you read the blog last Sunday you might remember that I had a bit of a meltdown when the bitch in the bathroom delivered the less than welcome news that over the preceding week I had somehow picked up an unwelcome guest, in the shape of one whole pound of lard.
I held my hands up and ‘fessed all. I hadn’t cheated on the diet as such but I’d definitely taken my eye off the ball. Counting points had sort of morphed into guessing and I’d become a little too complacent to convince anyone that I was serious about shedding once and for all this additional arse that I’ve been carrying around for most of my life. I swear down I’ve never been more serious about anything, ever. Upping of game was clearly required.
And I have. This week has been totally different. I’ve stepped up to the plate, walked more, exercised more and I have been scrupulous in terms of point counting and clean eating. I’ve been textbook, right? So you’d expect that to show up on the scales, just like I did. As I went about my morning routine I was confident. Some might even say cocky.
After brushing my teeth I threw a contemptuous glance towards the bitch, sitting just to the left of my washbasin, a glance that was intended to convey that her ass was mine, once I’d dried my hair, you know just in case the fact that my hair was wet made it weigh heavy. See, I had it all going on, I know how these things work.
I walked around the bedroom like Rocky strutting around the boxing ring, I mean I was da man. And when I was ready I sauntered back into the bathroom and stood on the scale only to find that there had been absolutely zero fucking downwards movement since last Sunday. That pound appears to have welded itself to my arse like some kind of lardy asylum-seeker, clearly hoping that the past philosophy of all additional pounds being accepted as the norm and going largely unnoticed was still in play.
So now, we’re at something of a stand-off. I mean, I tried all the usual things like moving the scale around the bathroom, standing on one leg, holding onto the sink so I weighed lighter at first and letting go slowly just in case you know, it needed time to adjust in order to be accurate. Nothing. The extra pound climbed aboard the damned thing every time I did.
Now, we all know what would have happened in the past, right? Proceed directly to the fridge, do not pass GO, do not collect £200…you know the score. Plus, let me tell you that since buying my new phone yesterday I’ve spent in total about five hours on either phone support or text chat support with the incredibly patient clever people at Apple.
For whatever reason, every single operating system within the four walls of my house has seemingly needed to be rebooted or updated with different software before anything would recognise my new phone, and now finally old phone, new phone and MacBook are all working but still not talking to each other so the nightmare continues and will probably swallow up my entire Sunday. Knowing all that, and knowing me as you do, with my lack of patience and technical muppetry, you’ll realise that I’m a woman on the edge.
(For dramatic purposes please feel free to ‘hear’ that last paragraph in a voice going up in both pitch and volume, coming from a body dressed in mismatched pyjamas and one slipper because I got dressed without concentrating whilst talking to said tech support and the dog’s slipper fetish has struck again.)
Nine salted almonds and two muesli bars were consumed with a cup of tea during the course of my morning just to ease the pressure. I’m ten smart points into my day and now before I go pick up my mum I have to call the nice man back who said clicking that button and waiting for shit to download would fix the problem, only it didn’t.
Anyway. The pound lives to fight another day but it’s not going to win. The battle lines are drawn and me and the bitch in the bathroom will reconvene next Sunday. I have a lump hammer on standby just in case things turn ugly.
Have a good week y’all 🙂
hahah!! Oh my gosh!! This is my life. I do all of the above things to get the scale to say what I need it to. I turn it slightly to the left. Slightly more. And if that doesn’t work I move it to another room. I go away and come back later. And if all else fails I beat it with a hammer and throw it in the trash. I am on my 5th scale in 5 years. The one I currently have is actually broken and won’t read ANY numbers at all. I think that is why this particular scale has lasted longer than any of the others. It’s smarter than the rest of them. It knows if it has nothing nice to say then don’t say anything at all. Don’t even SHOW a number!! haha
That’s funny, yes I must admit many’s the time I’ve wanted to scream WHY CAN’T YOU JUST LIE TO ME!!!
Enjoying your posts. This one reminds me of the shedding of sh** when forced to weigh in at the Dr. office. SHOES, they weigh, what, 5 lbs? JACKET of course. PURSE. Um. Watch? Hair clip? The baleful look from the Dr.’s assistant as I pile up the heavy items is anxiety provoking.
Hi Leslie, and welcome 🙂 That’s funny but so true! I remember various weight watchers classes over the years where there was always a queue for the loo so folk could squeeze out whatever they could immediately prior to weigh in!
It happens. Remember, things are changing, you are building muscle, and the loss never happens fast enough to satisfy us. Next week will be different!
I’m chuffing hoping so Mimi!
I am not sure whether I was meant to laugh but I found the post very entertaining. Perhaps the weight scale is broken? That’s what I usually say to myself, anyway! 😛
Hi Lilinha, good to meet you, and welcome 🙂 I’d love to think the scale is broken, but no…she’s just a bitch!
Happy UK Mother’s Day. Ours is May, in Australia.
Thanks Natalie 🙂
I’m having an anxiety attack just reading about your phone problems!
Happy Mother’s Day. I googled Mother’s Day U.K. on Saturday because it usually falls around my Mum’s birthday (17th) or just after. I was shocked to see it was today. I called my Mum immediately and apologized for not sending her a card or flowers for the first time in the 36 years we have lived in the U.S. I wish we could all get on the same page and celebrate it the same day world wide.
I feel for you re: the stubborn pound. I just know from experience (as I’m sure you already know) that it will come off again. Weight loss is a strange thing, we can cheat and not gain weight (sometimes) and we can be perfect and not lose, go figure.
I hope by now your phone issues have been resolved.
Jo.
Thanks Jo, I think I’m 99% of the way there! And I agree, sometimes there’s no rhyme or reason for losing or gaining…I’m claiming that thing that Fleury mentioned, muscle edema or something like that. No idea what it is but it sounds like the sort of thing that I could blame for this pound on, right? 🙂 🙂
Hang in there, Dee! You won’t be the one to flinch – we’re backing you. By next week the Beeyitch, that harpie, will grudgingly cede the round to you. (I add: it’s, you know, water retention, transitory muscle edema or something, it ain’t a fat lb.) (Little focker is still unwelcome and MAY NOT invite any of its little friends on board!) LUL, Fleury
p.s. This is shaping up to be a really special Mother’s Day! Happy Day to you anyway!
Really special…hahahahahaha yes good luck with that theory! 🙂
Ha, wishing you luck for the next week, I am sure the threat of the hammer will come in useful 🙂
Hi Stephen, welcome to the blog, and I hope so!
Awww, Dee, I totally get how frustrating it is to be sooooo good and see no results on the scale. Keep at it, she’ll give in. I’m due for a new phone and I am dreading the idea of the switch and all it will entail. But I do so want a bigger phone and I really have my eye on the new Galaxy, which will be a betrayal to my iPhone and I’m not sure I’m ready to give up all the money I have invested in my music. But the Galaxy take such better pictures… Happy Mother’s Day, by the way!
Thanks Tracey, my boy has been perfectly lovely especially since I’ve been a proper grumpy-drawers 🙂