And I don't mean that in a Tina Fey "Bitches Get Stuff Done" way, or a "Babe In Total Control of Herself" way. I mean that in a sneaky, backstabbing, lead actress in a soap opera way.
Recently, my scale showed that I had gained weight. Now, since I only weigh myself once a week and since I'm eating less than I did at this time last year, there's really no reason for this to be happening.
Except that the scale is a bitch.
The other day after Hot Guy praised my dedication to the gym, I ranted about the weight gain (isn't that how you're supposed to react to compliments from your husband? Ranting?). And he looked me and said, "No, you haven't gained weight."
And while the man does look at me naked on a regular basis, I took his perception with a grain of salt. Horny men aren't very discerning, after all. But then I remembered that all my pants still fit just fine. So I went old school and took out a tape measure.
I'd lost an inch around my waist and an inch around my thighs since the last time I'd measured, which was 3 weeks ago when I realized that I needed to adjust my bra size. So I was in fact smaller than I had been, even though the scale said otherwise.
"Muscle ways more than fat" is one of those phrases I've always heard but never really believed. Unless you were talking about body builders or something. I always trusted the scale first, my clothes second. And measurements? I never paid any attention to them at all.
No wonder I've spent most of my life upset with my weight. . . I've been listening to a bitch.
I'm going to start taking my cues from the tape measure; she seems like a really kind girl.
How do you measure your weight?