Today, I found the scale. Yes, I racked my brain trying to remember which bag I had last seen it in (way back in California), located it in the mountain of stuff in the guest room, and after a few deep breaths decided that it was, at last, time to face the music.
So, I closed my eyes, stepped on, and......I was almost 100 pounds under my last registered weight.
Um....yeah...don't get too excited...
Apparently, the scale suffered some major injury during our trip to Ohio and is now mocking me with an insanely low number - thanks scale!
So, now I need to decide whether to replace Mr. Scale with an actual working model, or if I should continue along my merry way with a delightful cloud of ignorance surrounding me.
I know, I know, if I'm going to continue along towards my (now seemingly impossible) goal of losing 50 pounds before my next birthday, I'm going to need a scale to keep track of my progress.
Ugh!
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