You better watch out . . .
I swear, the Scalegod must read my blog. Just a couple of weeks ago I wrote complaining that his new favorite form of torture was giving me a lower weight the day immediately after my official weigh in day.
So this week, he gives me a lower weight -- an unbelievably lower weight -- on Official Weigh In Day, then immediately turns around and jumps it up 1.4 pounds. Blech. I weighed in yesterday and today at 182.2.
The thing is, I knew that 180.8 couldn't be real. I don't know where it came from -- but it was a great 2 days, wasn't it?
So now, in comparison, it makes the new more realistic 182.2 feel like absolute shite.
Particularly since this gain was completely unprovoked on my part. I've been nothing but good.
And so I find myself, today, in general, at loose ends.
There is a bigger number on the Scalegod.
There is my nanoproject, stalled.
And the little matter of the Corvette that somebody (Scott), not mentioning any names (Scott), ran out and bought the other day. 2000, low mileage, forest green with a tan top. He's in lo-o-o-o-ove.
So today we're supposed to be taking advantage of this freaky weather we're having and go driving with the top down. What I should be doing right now is my Petra Kolber step tape. Racking up the activity points because you know how well road food fits on the WW program. Ha.
But I'm not.
Sometimes I like weekends because they give me the chance to do all the stuff I don't have time to do during the week.
And sometimes I like weekends because they give me the chance to do all the stuff I don't have time to do during the week -- and I still don't do them.
Because it's the weekend.