Bathroom Scales

I’ve read that it takes 21 consecutive times of doing a task to make it into a habit.

I weigh myself nearly every day. It’s a habit. Some will say it isn’t good to weigh every day, but it keeps me honest. So I strip off my gown and stand on the scales ‘nekked as a jaybird’ so as not to add a single ounce to the already too high number.

This is part of my ritual that comes just after getting out of the bed each morning and making it up (including all the unnecessary pillows) before I make my short trip into the little room. Making your bed when you REALLY have to go to the little room speeds things up immensely! Of course, in the little room, I do the most important thing first…again, so as not to add a single ounce to the already high number.

Then I step onto the scale. I either celebrate with a little happy giggle or step down and shove it back under the chair so I don’t have to be reminded of its report for that particular day.

But this morning I realized that I do something while I’m standing on the scale that makes no sense. I don’t even think about it. I hold in my stomach! I do!

Why would I do such a stupid thing?
Am I thinking it will cause me to weigh less when I do that?!?
Will it somehow magically decrease that number that shows up in the little window?

No…I’ve realized the ugly truth. I hold in my stomach simply to be able to see the numbers.

What is silly about all this is that I’ve had eight abdominal surgeries and I can’t really hold in my stomach at all! It is actually a ‘holding-attempt’ on my part, which is pathetic at best!

One thing I will never own is a “Garfield-scale!” You know the one that makes snide remarks when he steps onto it? I don’t ever want to hear my scale tell me things like:
• “One at a time, buddy! One at a time!”
• “If you’d go on a diet, two underdeveloped nations would have enough to eat.”
• “Good news. Herman Melville wants to write a book about you.”




Always remember that if you have a pulse, you have a purpose…so make your life count!