Dead weight...

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There was a lot of activity in my house yesterday before I left for work.  This was mainly because I knew that despite a whole hour and three quarters of dieting this week, the Binland scales would not have good news for me at the weekly weigh in.

As the husband is back to working in London, I was up with him at 5.30 yesterday morning.  I should mention at this point that it would be more than possible for me to get up at 8.00 (especially as son number two is still here and on dog walking duty) but I like to send him on his merry way with a loving kiss and wave from the front door.  This ensures that he is reminded each day just how lucky he is to be married to me.  No harm in reinforcing this on a daily basis I feel.

So, he was out of the way by 6.00 and having showered and got dressed (same outfit as last Monday so that it would be a true reflection of my face filling week) I approached the scales with some trepidation.  Alright, I admit it, if I'd had a loaded revolver, I may have shot my scales through its black hearted battery pack, but instead, I tiptoed up to it, saying out loud as I approached that it should 'be nice to me, or I might start wearing my stiletto heels when I climb aboard'.  Stepping up onto it as gently  as though it were a bed of nails, I prised my eyes opened and looked down.

Oh marvellous.  A pound heavier than last week, and I didn't even have my shoes on. On the plus side, my hair was still wet and I'd had a cup of tea.  Surely that would be enough to tip the scales back in my favour over the course of the morning.

The next two hours were spent drying my hair, running up and down the stairs with various armfuls of washing and ironing, vacuuming the lounge and getting rid of that cup of tea (without being too graphic).  Popping my shoes back on and approaching the scales like a fifteen year old who's been told to tidy their room, I climbed on.

Isn't the human body an incredible thing?  All that running round, hair drying  and a comfort break, and all I'd managed to do was to gain another pound (still no shoes on at this point I should say). Resigning myself to abject humiliation and scorn from my Binland Diet Club colleagues, I went into work and waited while Mrs S got the scales out and ushered me on.  

 Well it wasn't as bad as I thought.  A one and a half pound gain on last week, and I vowed to be a better dieter this week (or just a dieter full stop, never mind a better one).

 Did I mention that I went without breakfast as well yesterday?  

 Oh boy, it could have been so much worse...

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