Doctor, doctor, I said, it hurts when I do this.
Do this, doctor. It hurts so bad. So bad!
Doctor says, Well, don't do it.
Such was my conversation with the gyn yesterday. And what, you may wonder, was I referring to? Getting on the scale! Oh that lousy scale!
But doctor, I said, I have to!
No, you don't.
But what about the Amanda Carona Challenge, doctor? What about the millions of Blue Pitcher fans out there who are a Twinkie away from falling off the WWagon?
They'll live, she said, or didn't say, but might have said. Actually, all she told me was to stop weighing myself. Give yourself a break until the birdie's got wings. Woman, I wanted to say, I've got wings!!! Have you checked out my triceps lately?
And such is my dilemma. Here, in my winged-Bovine state, I'm wondering what to do. Anyone wanna weigh in on this ridiculously vain topic?