My scale is being a wicked jerk and I hate it I hate it.

I got up this morning, weighed in, and had this conversation with my scale:

Scale: Hey, guess what?!?  You did it!  You've met your goal for the week, (and it's only Wednesday, you ambitious little thing) and you're officially down to 139.8!

Me: WOAH. Seriously?!?

Scale: HA. No.  You're still totally a fatass.  Just thought I'd screw with you a little.  In fact, you've GAINED a little since yesterday... what have you been eating?

Me: NOTHING!!!  I'm tired and I'm hungry and I'VE EATEN NOTHING!

Scale:  Yeah... see, I don't know about that.  You're starting to look a little extra thick around the middle...

And that's why we no longer have a bathroom scale.