It’s that time of year again: a time of regret for the poor decisions that we made at the grocery store this week. I don’t own a bathroom scale, nor do I enjoy “hopping up” onto the scale at the doctor’s office. What’s with that anyway? They’re always asking you to hop up on the scale, or hop up on the table. If I have a gaping chest wound, don’t ask me to hop. But I digress. Continue reading →