compulsive not eating

See I knew it.

Two days ago, on one cloudy Saturday, after a BodyBalance class, I randomly had the urge to weigh myself. It's been three months (or even more) since I weighed myself the last time, and at that time I still remember how I looked down to see the numbers and heaved a sigh replacing the words I supposed to say, "See? It's still 64."

So two days ago, at the gym I decided to step back on to the scale again, with full awareness that they might have messed with the scale in order to make people look weigh a little more so that they will renew their membership.

OR, they might have messed the scale up by making people look weigh less so that they will think that the gym does bring some results.

In conclusion, I stepped on the scale, only confided a tiny little bit in it.

I weighed 66 kgs. 66! SIXTY SIX! I have never, I mean, NEVER reached somewhere over 65 before. So this is good news right? Right? But wait. This is the gym scale. Not my own scale. My regular scale. People have messed this thing up. So I stepped down, went to the shower thinking, ah well, at least I am within the range.

Yesterday, after my 4th meal (a banana and a scoop of peanut butter. Yum!), I decided to weigh myself. Out of the blue. So I walked to my bathroom, put my feet on the scale, and looked down.

It was 66 kg.

So, yay! It WAS really 66.

BUT guess what happened today. Today, I don't feel like eating. As always. Like what The Beatles say, "When I'm sixty-four." Gah. So, I skipped my second and fourth meal.

I know.

PS: I still don't know how many percent of that 66 was fat, but I believe and safely assume that it was somewhere below twenty. Hahahaha.

PS2: I wonder if it has something to do with the fact that I checked my weight a couple of days ago. Maybe I should stop checking my weight after all.