Tuesday, January 7, 2014

OMG I Bought A Scale

Confession: I have never owned a scale.

My parents had a rinky dink ancient one under their bathroom sink when I was a kid but it rarely made an appearance outside the confines of the cabinet and didn't even really work when it did see the light of day.  I believe that this absence of a weighing machine during my formative years allowed me, unlike some young girls, to escape the (I'm sure unintentional) lesson from adult's behavior that a scale is supposed to be a fixture in the bathroom, the number on it actually means something and it has enough control to make or break your mood.  

Also as a result of this no-scale upbringing, I have no earthly idea how much I weighed at any given point in my life except for the months leading up to our wedding, when I was somehow convinced by the world that all brides are supposed to worry about such things.  Even then, I didn't spend my measly money on one of those things, I simply paid attention at the doctor's office.

Well...there's a first time for everything.  Here I am, a week shy of my 27th birthday, and I have purchased my first scale.


I have not given it a name like I do with most of the other gadgets I obtain (phone named Sam, tablet named Napoleon, eReader named Snookie, etc).  This is because it is not my friend.  It gets to live in our back room where it is cold and dreary and only gets visits from me once a week on Sundays.  Sad life.

Why did I finally buy a scale?

Honestly, because I don't know where my friend Kim keeps hers in their house anymore.  Also Trent and I are both intent on eating better, getting regular exercise and losing some weight.  We're doing it together and want to be able to actually track our progress, so here we are.  We own a scale.  It has proved inescapable.

At least I made it 27 years.  Well, almost.

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