Sunday, August 22, 2010

The scaled down version of me.

I don't have a scale at home.  As I've previously mentioned, I have no self-control around a bathroom scale.  I am, in short, a "scale ho".

If the number is down, I'm up.  If the number is up, I'm down.  My moods are random enough already ... having an evil scale in the house will just give me one more thing to obsess over, try to avoid even as I can think of little else, and use as an excuse to eat or not eat, or overeat and swear I'll do it all differently tomorrow.

Ah yes, the perpetual, magical tomorrow!

I have had decades of tomorrows, and mostly they led to more eating, more weight and more misery.  Tomorrows always came, and with them the consequences of what I had or hadn't done the day before.

The scale was a favorite tool of mine in that war of attrition, until I gave up even keeping one in the house because I just didn't want to know what I weighed anymore.

Now I don't keep one in the house because I want to know what I weigh, I just want to know too MUCH!  Better to weigh in every other week at the doctor's office and be done with it. 

It's nice when there are simple solutions to pain in the patootie problems.


No comments:

Post a Comment