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ANOTHER CHAPTER FROM MY BOOK THAT I WROTE OVER A DECADE AGO. Apparently I was very judgy about people getting boob jobs.

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I woke up the other morning 15 pounds heavier than I was when I went to bed. Like a tick that fed through the night, I had blown up. Big. This is not an unusual feeling for any woman – in fact, we check to see if we’re fat before we check to see if we’re breathing. But I didn’t THINK I was fifteen pounds heavier... I actually WAS. I got on that dreaded scale I hide under the sink and sure enough – 15 pounds – overnight. I moved the scale to another room, because surely the floor was uneven in the bathroom and it was throwing things off. I climbed on again in my bedroom. Fifteen pounds heavier. I took off all my clothes and took out my night guard – it could be heavy, who knows? Back on the scale. Fifteen pounds heavier. I was running out of rooms to stand in and things to take off. I would have cut off a limb if I’d thought it would make the scale read lower. 

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