On my way into the exam room this morning the nurse detoured me past the doctor's office scale. Ugh, they are the worse, but a necessary evil.
I dropped my back and book, and shucked my sweater and shoes, so over my undies all I was wearing was jeans (and the belt I need to keep them up) and a tank top. There was nothing hidden, I swear.
So, up I hops on the scale and the nurse moves the big block to 150.
"200" says I.
"Really?" says she, moving the block obligingly. "You really don't look it."
Awww, how sweet.
And the number? 219 (in clothing).
Not as low as I would like, but 5 pounds less than last time I was at the doctor's a little over a month ago. For all my winning and screaming, I know any movement downwards is good movement.