Phooey!

Or, as Nero Wolfe used to say, "Pfui!"

I waited a week to weigh, was up a full pound, weighed again this morning, was up another 4. This tells me that I'm in my SpongeBob mode, retaining water. I always do this when I've eaten prepared brisket, either from the grocery store or one of the local bbq spots. It never fails. I've always been this way, since my pregnancies. Salt can cause me to swell up, making my fingers looked like stuffed sausages, and my feet and ankles to look huge.

Have I learned my lesson? Probably not, I'll most likely buy brisket again, or ham, or some other salty meat, and then gripe and whine when the scales bounce way up. It's my own fault, but I suppose that if I remember what caused the scales to go up, it won't bother me nearly so much. It's just that I was really looking forward to at least a little bit of a loss from the week before. Perhaps next time.

One of my tenants told me she didn't recognize me because I'd lost weight. It's only been a month since I've seen her. At first I thought, "What a nice compliment!" Then I remembered that this is a quite senile little old lady, and perhaps she doesn't remember what I looked like last month anyway!

Actually, I've had several people ask me if I've lost more, I usually tell the, no, not really, because it's been too small of a loss to even mention. But it sure makes me feel good!