I have a love/hate relationship with my scale. When I lose weight, I LOVE my scale. When I lose weight, my scale is my best friend. When I lose weight, I twirl around the kitchen, dance with my scale, playfully hop on/off it and talk sweet nothings to it out of overwhelming gratitude. Those are the happy times. The rest of the time, I hate my scale! Or should I say… My scale hates me. You don’t believe me? Think I am crazy because I believe my scale has feelings? Well sit back, listen and read on.
I woke up this morning being my usual chipper self with a big stretch and a smile on my face.
Like every morning, I start my day out making a pot of coffee and singing my “making coffee song.” I am one of those overly cheerful morning people most want to drop kick or punch right in the throat.
As soon as the coffee gets going and I tire myself out with my annoyingly cheery morning song… I hop on the scale.
I hate you, scale.
I sulk to the bathroom.
Ah ha! Maybe that is the reason the scale has not changed since yesterday! Water weight! That totally explains it. Duh… I will go reweigh myself.
I gained, GAINED?! Why do you do this to me scale? Why do you toy with my emotions like this? Why do you hate me so much? Whyyyyyyyy.
I told you, my scale hates me.
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