Weight...Loss...

This week I was devastated to lose a very dear companion. We have been together for a while now, and while it's always hard to be with someone who tells you the brutal truth, when they are gone it leaves a hole that nothing else can fill.

This week I lost my scale.

Actually, LOST is not the right word, it was forcibly taken from me. A good friend who has ridden the weight loss roller coaster with me came over and took it from under my dresser. Why did she take it? BECAUSE FITFREAK TOLD HER TO!

Why did she take it? Her thought was that if I didn't have a scale with which to OBSESSIVELY weigh myself, I would be forced to keep track of the food I put in my mouth or suffer the consequences.

Talk about breaking hard habits. Kicking the smoking habit was NOTHING compared to this. My morning routine was RUINED! Wake up, pee, remove pajamas, get on scale, replace pajamas, grab coffee. Now it's just wake up, pee, wonder what my weight might be and then head straight for the coffee.

To continue with the smoking analogy (because not too long ago I was a smoker too, traded one compulsion for another...) Those of you who smoked, do you remember how a nice meal just wasn't complete without a cigarette afterwards? Well the same holds true of my scale. When I come from the bathroom after a particularly satisfying poop (yeah, TMI, I know!) I would immediately strip and get BACK ON THE SCALE to see how many ounces I shed. The same holds true of exercising. Go for a good walk/run/spin/aerobics class. Get on the scale.

So here I am, scale-less and wondering just where I stand before heading to the official scale at WW this week. Should I sneak into the YMCA locker room and see what that one says? Should I pay a quarter for those HIGHLY ACCURATE scales you see in the foyer of K-Mart? Should I break into my friend's house and try to weight myself while she's out doing errands?

Or maybe...maybe I should just stop stuffing my face full of crap and let the chips (CHIPS!) fall where they may when I get to weight watchers.

Sigh. Goodbye old friend. I miss you more than you'll ever know.