The Doctor's scale doesn't lie

Sometimes I try to avoid the scale. Particularly if I'm bloated, just stuffed my face with pizza or dessert, or have otherwise been lazing about. Of course the waistband of my pants tells me the truth, but still there is something about seeing those numbers blinking at you from between your feet on your digital scale that just tells you in no uncertain terms - you're fat. Luckily, I can bypass my scale in the morning.

Unfortunately for me, I recently paid a visit to the doctor's office, which, no matter what you're there for - strep throat, a bum knee, itchy eyes .... they want to weigh you! And of course the doctor doesn't let you take your shoes off all the time. They'll often weigh you before you've even stripped down to that wonderfully comfortable paper gown. To further add insult to the whole process, they'll call the number out loud just in case you're not sure what it is, and if you're half a pound over, those fuckers round it up.

So when I stepped onto that scale this week, I just kind of shut my eyes. And good lord, she told me I was a pound lighter than I thought.