So, today’s the day. The official weigh-in.
Everyone knows by now that I could care less about the numbers on the scale, right? I want to know the inches lost! I want to know the body fat percentage! Hoo!
So I go in and get measured and the lady goes “where is your original sheet?” Hold up. Wait. What? Are you kidding me? My original sheet is NOT in my file. Which means… yep… they’ve lost it. I refrain from choking the woman because I know who last held my sheet in their hands and it’s the owner of Curves, not this particular woman who is very nice. So I smile and say, “well can you write Ms Size Zero (no, I used her actual name) a note and tell her to FIND it, because 2 months with no idea of how many inches I’ve lost is a TINY bit annoying.”
Fine. I’ll get my body fat percentage.
Oh. It’s gone up .4%. Interesting. I mean, I knew the little hand held ones were not very reliable but seriously? I lost 4 lbs since last time and my body fat percentage went up? Fantastic. I’m leaving it right where it is and anyone who has issue with that can bite me.
So yeah, I’ve lost 4.5 lbs in the past month, which is good. I mean, I’m only shooting for a pound a week, especially in these first 3 months when they say you can gain muscle while at a calorie deficit. I’m fine with gaining muscle. It’s just that last time I calculated how many fat lbs I’ve lost and this time it doesn’t seem possible. At least, I don’t really want to do that since my calculations just told me I lost 6 lbs of muscle. I’m not buying it.
Anyway, I left in a pissy mood. Ok ok, I called my sister and had a brief cry/freak out. I’m pissy, I’m bitchy and I’m really trying to figure out if I’ll be devastated if they can’t find my original sheet ever or if I’ll just decide to make the best of it (which I usually do, but hey, gimme some time to sulk). I get my groceries and then stop at McDonalds for my non-fat, sugar-free, vanilla latte and head for home. Before I leave town I see a guy holding a sign that says: NEED WORK!
Wow. I mean, I’ve never seen stuff like that around here. Sure, in larger cities, I guess you see it all the time. But this was right here, so close to home. So that guy is out wanting work and I’m sitting in my air conditioned car, drinking my 3 dollar latte and griping that the people at Curves can’t find my original measurements… and suddenly I feel like a moron.
There are far more important things to get upset over and far more things to be thankful for in my life right now. Another thanks to the universe for making sure I keep my attitude proper and my perspective in check.