Wednesday, June 14, 2006

Winning the war

I did something really brave today: I got on the scale. I hadn't been on that thing since March and I was completely hoping the batteries were dead.

Of all the small household appliances, this is the one that can take me through a range of emotions within 3 minutes. Fear. Loathing. Depression. Bliss. Joy. Denial. A ridiculous piece of machinery that requires a 9-volt should not have that much power. A scale is like a vibrator: almost every woman has had one in her house at one time or another and hopes she never has to use it.

Sometimes I feel sorry for the silly little scale. It takes a lot of abuse. Besides having to bear my weight, it has been subjected to many kicks and shoves against the bathroom wall. It's place in the bathroom is a punishment in itself - right next to the toilet, where it's closest neighbour is the garbage can. It's subjected to daily bursts of steam and suffers the indignity of catching dental floss or q-tips that didn't quite make it to the trash. No wonder it's a miserable little machine!

I've often thought of throwing it away for good. But I can never bring myself to do it. It's not like I need it there to remind me I have to lose weight. I keep it because I think it motivates me to work harder whether the numbers get lower or higher.

But today the batteries weren't dead. Surprisingly, it wasn't horrible. Since March, I've lost..drumroll please......5 pounds. And that was without really trying. Imagine what would happen if I really put some effort into my weight loss.

And that little machine won the war again today, but in a good way. Seeing the loss actually made me go downstairs and get on the treadmill. For once I actually wanted to hug my scale...but ewww...I don't want to touch something that's right next to the toilet!

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