I haven't been eating healthy meals recently. Since I've been working on most evenings, dinners especially are on the go and if its past 6 or 7pm, I no longer have any desire to eat. To my utter dismay, I had to give up while trying to finish a slice of cheesecake last night! Tista not being able to consume infinite quantities of something sweet is certainly cause for concern!
Keeping this in mind, I wasn't too surprised this morning when I noticed in the mirror that I looked thinner that I have in a few years. (About 5, I'd say, pinning the date to some point before my US chapters of half-and-half drinking, among other things). I went ahead and checked my weight, and to my shock, it was 4 kgs less since last time, which was only a couple of weeks ago! While on the one hand, I too have bought and partially internalized some of the social messages that permeate human existence, including ideas like thinner is better, I must admit I was perfectly happy with my previous weight and had no real desire to lose any of it. Sure, there are pockets of flab I wouldn't be devastated say goodbye to, but this looked like a matter of muscle loss. I sure haven't been exercising.
I confided my angst to my mother, when she exclaimed that she too had lost some weight in the recent past- 4 kgs, to be precise! We soon pinpointed the culprit, the faulty weight machine, which, in its defence, has had a bed collapse on it recently. The only way we could think of to check it was to put five 1kg bags of sugar (ah, sugar) on the machine. Lo and behold, it only registered less than two kilograms. I promptly discarded still nascent resolutions of planning to eat healthier and dug into a slice of cake, before 8 am in the morning. Hey, I promise I'll have a real breakfast in a hour or so and I have to make up for last night's betrayal, after all!
