I am going to weigh myself this morning, which is, of course, why I'm writing this post. I get something done that feels productive, and I put off the inevitable doom.

I can't escape. It must be done.

I tell myself at night that I'm not weighing the next morning, because when I was weighing myself every day, I started to not be able to sleep the night before because I was so worried about it. Yes, I figured out that the best way to handle my nerves was to lie to myself. 

So far, my strategy has been fine.

This year, I've been actively not dieting, and eating healthy and exercising almost every day for long periods of time. So let's see how much weight I've gained. I felt like I was getting smaller, but then on Sunday I measured my waist and it was slightly larger than the last time I measured. That one's tricky, though, because sometimes I suck in and pull the tape really hard, just so I can feel a little bit better. This time I didn't. But did I last time? I can't remember.

So I'll see how the weight goes. I'm not feeling very positive about it, because at this point, I think the only way I'm ever going to lose a significant amount of weight is by chopping off a body part. And I just can't decide which one would give me the most weight loss and also not be too inconvenient.

This morning, I'm trying to prepare myself for the moment when my Wii character suddenly expands to Jabba-the-Hutt-like size and then explodes. After that, the Wii will give me the finger and tell me to get off of the balance board before it breaks.

It's going to happen one of these days, I know it.

Okay, I guess I'm sufficiently prepared for the worst. I'm still going to be sad, though. I know it.