Ode to My Crazy Scale.

Have you ever done something that you swore you would never do? I mean really swore yourself to it. These may be some examples: Drink the water in Mexico on a dare; of course you are three sheets to the wind when you consent to this. Get married in Vegas during a weekend visit. Send a boat load of money to a foreign country to claim your million dollar "prize."

I am sure you can say without a doubt that you have stuck to your guns, and refrained from such endeavours, and for that I say, "Good for you."

My promise was: I would never ever buy a scale. I was so sure of that I started a following. Maybe you heard of it: “Scales-Are-Evil-Bad-And-They-Bring-Nothing-But-Heartache”. Instead of buying a scale I bought a soapbox. I would stand on my soapbox, and preach about the evils of bathroom scales. My message was simple: Throw out your scales, and live in peace for the rest of your life! I had true conviction; I really did.

One day something wonderful but terrible happened that would change the course of my life forever: PRIDE. If you do not know I had weight loss surgery, and the pounds are coming off! I told myself, and my dear friends that I would only weigh myself at my doctor's office. I made good on my promise. At my first weigh-in I lost 16 pounds in eight days! Can you believe that? I could not either; I made the doctor re-weigh me, but it was true! For the next few days I walked around like a peacock, but then I got to thinking, "How much weight have I lost now?"

The problem was my next appointment wasn't for another four weeks; how was I going to hold out? Could you hold out? After much consideration and a lot of reasoning I went down to Wal-Mart, and bought myself a scale. I promised myself it would be only used once a week. I solemnly swear: “I will not weigh myself daily, hourly, by the minute, or second”. Of course I have to maintain some level of decorum in this situation.

I got home and unpacked my scale. I was pretty excited about my new purchase. I read the instructions carefully... wait a minute let's stop here. Am I missing something? Why does a scale need instructions? Isn't it pretty simple? Step on, look down, and then step off. Never the less I am compliant, so I forge on. I decide that I should weigh myself then and there; you know give it a "spin". I do the normal take-off-all-of-your-heavy-clothes-so-you-get-a-true-reading- which means I stripped down to my skivvies. I got on the scale, and I lost another 10 pounds! I picked up my scale and I hugged it. We are going to be best friends for life; how could I have misjudged you?

The next week...

I took my scale out of the closet. Maybe I should have rethought my new friend’s living arrangements? Never the less we walked to the bathroom, and I stepped on expecting to see another big loss. YES, my friend did not let me down; I lost another 8 pounds! Or did I? I decided to show David my success, so I hopped on the scale guess what? Now I had GAINED 3 pounds from last week. What? I tried it again and again, and it kept reading the same each time: a 3 pound gain. Stupid scale! My husband left the bathroom. I cursed the scale. I suggested that me and the scale may have to break the relationship off. I stepped on one last time, and you know what? This time I LOST 8 pounds! What the hell is going on? So I spent the next 5 minutes weighing myself in all kinds of different positions: front, backwards, sideways all with the same results. I called David back in the bathroom, and again I stepped on the scale. At first it showed the loss, and then it jumped to gain and there it sat not budging. How can there be an 11 pound difference? I put the scale back in the closet, and kicked it for good measure.

Fast forward to today...

We still have the temperamental scale. David now weighs himself on it too. We never get the same weight twice. It does show decreases and increases (unfortunately). I kind of like having a scale that will lie to me. I figure it this way; I still don't know how much I weigh, and in the end isn't that what I really wanted in the first place? So I guess I will have to wait until my next doctor’s visit. Damn my pride.