Weighing on my mind

How often do you weigh yourself? Who cares. I do it daily. That;s how I stay sane. For some, it's a curse but for me, the not weighing myself daily in the past has led to some serious lack in judgment and a serious gain in pounds. So, when the nutritionist said to not weigh myself for a week ... you cannot imagine my trepidation. What? I am supposed to wake, brush my teeth, get dressed ... while the scale looks at me from the corner. Beckons me to tap it's sleek glass face, wait for the 0.00 to flash and then step on it, then wait with bated breath to see if a smile will light up my face or tears will slowly drip down my eyes.

How am I supposed to give that up for an entire week?!?!? I need the daily cry, I mean check in to keep myself on track. To keep the momentum going with the eating right and exercising and all that good stuff. The scale is the yin to my yang when it comes to my dietary habits. It's the Bonnie to my Clyde ... ok this doesn't work.

It's the scale to my pounds, bottom line. But for now, I've put it away in the bathroom on the other side of the condo, so I'd have to run across our bare living room windows in the morning to get to it to weigh myself. At least today, laziness and lack of pants won over the obsession with the scale. Just need to stay sans pants for a week now. I can do it ...

Don't worry, coworkers, I am not planning to leave the house sans pants. Not yet.