When I am on a roll, I have been known to get on the scale multiple times. That would be multiple times within 2 minutes, not multiple times over the course of the week.

“Could that be?” I say aloud, to no one in ear shot.  And yup, that is right there with my observations about my mutterings.

So I move the scale to another spot. And another. And another. Desperately seeking the place where I can find a number I find more satisfying. Usually I do. “See, knew I didn’t gain anything…phew.” One would think that once I have found the perfect place to weigh myself I’d put the scale there the next time I step on.

Doesn’t work. I’ve tried that.

Another thing. Browsing in a unisex clothing store the other day, I made this observation. We, as in women, can’t decide if we like a garment that we have just tried on, without tilting our head to one side. Tilt head and turn. Gaze over our own shoulder to see the rear view. Delighted or critical, I might add, depending on expectations.  Men, emerge from the fitting room, double check that the fly is zipped up, no tilts, turns or twirls. If you have seen a male doing the head tilting, twirling, or turning, I stand corrected.

Wanna weigh in?