Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Another one bites the dust!!! I suppose you're wondering how I know that - since I'm only suppose to get on the scale every few days or so. Yes, I know that optimally I should get on the scale only one time per week. But here's the lowdown people: I've been a very naughty girl, and it's time to 'fess up. Did I mention to you that I'm a scale junkie? Yea, I thought I did. And it's really, really true. Beyond what is reasonable and normal, I'm afaid. It's a genuine addiction. And true to that addiction, I have been getting on the scale almost everyday.
Okay so I'm not talking about hopping on the scale two or three times a day. I'm just talking about my complete and utter inability to start my day without seeing that little black digital number. Don't tell me I'm crazy. I already know that!!! But you know what? I know I'm not alone. I know it just as sure as I know that I'll get right back on again tomorrow. I think there are many, many people out there who do the same thing. And they probably check those numbers more times in a day than my measly ONCE.
I have considered this curious little addiction of mine more times than you can imagine. I have turned myself inside out trying to find the little magnet that puuuullllllls me to get on. What is it about a scale "fix" that I can't avoid? It's not like its a pleasant experience. More often than not it's disappointing or depressing. More often than not I have some sense of what the number is going to be. In fact, I once read an article about how the scale really only confirms what we already know about our weight -- that there are no surprises on that little bugger. But we continue to submit to the whim. Let's "just see." MmmHmmm. You know it's true. Yes you do!
And stranger still is that it doesn't matter whether I'm fat or skinny or somewhere in between. It's there waiting for me every morning. Calling my name. Taunting me. And I WANT to get on. Maybe that is where the problem begins. I don't know. What I DO know, however, is that I don't see myself giving up this last sad, sad little addiction anytime soon. But I'm thinking that it's partly ingrained in my system, routine and life. I've been doing it since I was probably 18. It's the gauge that tells me what I look like. Not literally, I know. But for sure in every other sense.
Puleeeaaaase don't tell me to stop this. That's part of my confession here. I can't and know myself well enough to know that I won't. I just thought I'd better get all of my cards out on the table. It felt like I had a secret and I wanted you to know the WHOLE story. So there it is. The whole sha-bang. So if absolution is what I need, feel free to sock it to me. In the meantime . . . you know I'll just keep working. Like my hour in the pool tonight -- good times. lol.
Well I'm going to sleep a whole lot better just knowing you know me a little bit better than you did 10 minutes ago. Hah! And that's what I need. Sleep. So I'm over and out! G'night!