Wednesday, February 26, 2014

Weigh-In Wednesday: My Brand New, Smashed to Bits Scale

Well, I bought a new scale for the master bathroom this week, not wanting to deprive my daughter nor G of the sheer joy it is to step on a scale once in awhile. Plus, my daughter's bathroom is so much nicer than mine, and when I weighed in her bathroom, I used her shower. Which made me feel sorry for myself with my teeny tiny shower stall. Which made me resent my 15 year old daughter for having such a luxurious space to herself. Which made me beat her. Oops, okay, that part didn't happen! But I did decide that perhaps downstairs bathroom people should stay out of the more plush upstairs bathrooms unless they planned to either wallow in grief for their tiny shower stall, or drag themselves all the way up the stairs to take a shower every morning. First world problems, I know!

So. New scale. Let me start by saying that the morning started off rough, as sleeping with G can be like sleeping with a newborn baby. He is up on the hour, every hour, it seemed, or at least last night he was. Most nights, it seems, although I have become better at cultivating my ability to sleep through it, haha. But at 1 a.m. he bashed his leg on the footboard of the bed for oh, I don't know, the 1000th time this week, but THIS time it surprised him and he screamed loud enough to wake me out of a dead sleep.

Plus the night before, I had a horrific nightmare about a spider, and I went to sleep afraid that I would dream about it again. What did this nightmare spider do? It existed. That's all it needed to do. In my dream, I ran across it in a crowded corner of a garage (not ours, thank goodness, or I'd be afraid it was a premonition). It was HUGE. With a fat, round purple body. In my dream, I was so terrified of it, I couldn't move. And it was trying to get away from me, but in doing so, it CAME TOWARD ME. In my dream, I was so scared I was even unable to scream, or move. It finally ran down a wall and its spell was broken and I was able to run across the garage. But horrifically, I could still see it on the wall from across the garage, it was so huge. 

In my dreams, I can never scream. Most of my nightmares center upon how utterly without voice I am, at a time I need to be able to scream. I hope, should the awful need arise in real life, I could manage more than the raspy squeaks I eek out in my dreams. I pray I never have to find out. :)

Well, two days later you can see how badly that spider dream terrified me, but it was no match for the horror I found waiting for me on the new scale:

Haha, I wish. I guess that's the New Scale Motivational Sticker.
Before I share my shame, let me make my excuses. I was so EXHAUSTED this morning, I utterly and truly forgot it was Weigh-In Wednesday until I was happily in the shower, minding my own business. And you know I have a weighing routine on Wednesdays: pee, weigh, shower. Never the three shall be done out of order.

Except today. I decided that I was really just postponing the inevitable if I didn't weigh in. Things are not going well and me and my bloated body know it. G and I rode the motorcycle to work yesterday for the first time in a long while, and when I put on my pants after the long season of not riding, I thought, "Okay, you've got maybe a couple more rides at this rate before you have to go buy new motorcycle pants." The pants that fit me from the time G and I first met (they were his son's quad-riding pants) do not so much fit me right now. I couldn't button them (to stay buttoned) although I could zip them. It would be mortifyingly embarrassing to have to buy new motorcycle pants, I'm telling you. And what a waste of money!

I can't feel my ribs and hips the way I've gotten so accustomed to doing, anymore. My breasts feel huge and round and heavy. My chest, or d├ęcolletage, feels puffy and padded. I am miserable in my own body.

Another excuse is that I had some major dental work on Thursday, and spent much of the next several days on pain pills, which wreak havoc on my digestion, despite all my best efforts. But I remedied that situation on Sunday - although I still took some pain pills up through last night, I have been really suffering. :( So, constipation is an issue, but it's not *the* issue.

Finally, who's to say the new scale isn't more accurate than the old one? I may replace the one in my daughter's bathroom, too, it's so dramatically different. How old is that old scale, I wonder?

And the new scale wasn't going to pull any punches, either. Look how bright those numbers are! They seared themselves in my eyes. Blech. 

Oh sure, *now* you'll orient the pictures in the right direction.

I can say all the things I need to say, but I keep saying them without doing the right things. So for right now I'm just gonna shut my g*d mouth. That's the biggest thing I need to do to take off the weight anyway, hahaha.







6 comments:

  1. I'm being Sleeved March 10th, your blog gave me some great insight on the recovery period, thanks!

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  2. I'm being Sleeved March 10th, your blog gave me some great insight on the recovery period, thanks!

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  3. I hate all scales - no matter where they are! LOL

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  4. ^^^Ditto to Drazil^^^

    "seared into my eyes" haha...doncha wish you could use that lighted pen thing from Men in Black to erase it?

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  5. good work on the picture, but i'm with Sheila and Draz... damn scales

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  6. Scales are from the devil. And yes, nightmare spiders are just as scary as actual in-life spiders!

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