While I'd like to pretend that my missing scale is living it up in Copenhagen, I must confess to a secret. I know where my scale is. To my husband who will undoubtedly tickle me to within an inch of my life, please be merciful. In fact, if you check now, the scale is not where you left it.
However! In my defence, I've been very good about it. I snuck a peek one day mid-week. Mentally berated myeslf and then put it back, vowing to only weigh once a week on official weigh-in day. Since then, I've been a peach. Except...I kinda forgot to put it back last Saturday.
Please don't tickle me.
Oh, and you'll be glad to know that I've convinced myself out of buying a new scale that tracks decimal figures, body fat and so on. I figgered it was no good for me to keep focusing on the scale when I can spend the exact same amount of money and get a nice workout top that I've been eyeballing. I think I'll order it after my 12th workout at Curves as a mini-reward.
Oh, and did I mention? Please don't tickle me.
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