I have an ongoing love-hate relationship with my bathroom scale. I don’t know what it is, but sometimes we get along and sometimes we don’t. Sometimes she speaks softly, soothes my soul, makes me feel nice. Other times she’s the biggest, loudest, most disagreeable bitch in my whole world. It goes something like this.
“Good morning, Scaley. How are you?
“Not talkative today? That’s ok. We can’t always be on.
“Yes, I’m fine, thank you. Possibly ate too much for supper last night, but I guess you’ll tell me for sure.
“What’s that? Your batteries are dying? Hmmm, I’ll have to see if I can get you some more.”
We dance around like this for some time before I climb on. I sigh deeply, expunging my corpus-less-than-delecti of almost all its air. I look down…
Of course, there’s always a question of accuracy. She’s a digital model – glass top, shiny insides – so expectations are high – but while she’s mostly quick and attentive, and (as far as I know) right on target, sometimes she’s slow and stubborn, or even nasty, spittin’ out a nasty ol’ digital tongue at me like this:
Same to you, Lady.
So I’m looking down… Sometimes she lies, like when I weigh myself before I have a shower then come out of the water weighing even more. That’s bald-faced, hand-in-the-cookie-jar prevarication – I mean, somewhere an unadulterated lie is smoking a cigarette, having a good smile at my consternation.
Still looking down… The love-hate thing comes in every day. It’s love when she tells me I’m lighter, it’s hate when she tells me the tru – I mean, when she doesn’t. Progress is definitely measured in ulbs and ozzes.
Looking down… I can’t stay mad at her for long. There’s a compulsive element to it, I think: I have a need for her. Like a wife or a lover, whether or not I plan to listen I simply must know how she thinks I’m doing.
I look down at a different result every day. I track my results – I enter them in a spreadsheet I’ve made – to reinforce myself emotionally and stay the course. Today’s reading (in case you’re curious) was down from yesterday, but yesterday’s was a downer from the day before.
Truly, in the bathroom of life, the weigh scale can be a real roller coaster