Tomorrow is the big day! Can you hardly believe it? I mean, I know it’s been a whole week since we have been together, but I do think we need to talk and set some boundaries. You see, I am a little nervous about meeting up with you the way we do…I am always naked and you don’t say much so it’s hard to say what you are thinking. Kind of gives a fat girl a complex. I mean, a little compliment every now and then would be a good thing. You don’t always have to sit there and give me such harsh numbers. A little compassion would be nice now and then. I even take the time to make sure my feet are nice and clean before I step on you, so I know it cannot be that my fat girl sweaty feet bother you. I even gave myself a pedicure this week to see if it would make you like me more. I mean, how far does a fat girl have to go to get you to like her?
Ok…wait. This has gone on for long enough and now I am begging you to like me? This is so not right. You can take your judgy glaring numbers and keep them to yourself. I don’t have to spend this time I make every week to see you. I could let you sit there and wonder if you are even needed by this fat girl. I mean, you don’t compliment me, you don’t say anything, you just take me in all my white fat girlness and it’s like you sigh a sigh of relief when my fat ass gets off. Like it’s all too much for you to handle. Well, buddy, let me tell you that if I am too much for you to handle, I can find another scale just as nice as you to do the job! It’s not like I ask too much. So you are now put on notice…either compliment me tomorrow or find yourself put in the very large trash bin outside and made into tiny scrap metal scales for Barbies to use. So there. Stupid scale doesn’t appreciate me and all I do for you. Have you no shame? I am sickened by how you treat me and I won’t put up with it anymore I tell you!
Wait…where are you going? Don’t stop showing me those numbers, please. I am sorry….I shouldn’t have been so harsh. Come back numbers!! I NEED YOU! I am nothing without you! (Sobbing has now commenced) Here…I cleaned the floor where you sit and wiped you off…is that enough for you to show me what I desire? Please? Pretty please with cherries on top? (Now soft mewing crys are emitting from me) I am sorry Scale. I didn’t mean any of those things I said before. I was just cranky because I hadn’t eaten. Fat girls get crabby when we don’t eat. Please forgive me. I am gonna try tapping you one more time…just please turn on. Please love me again. Why won’t you just love me?
Huh. Maybe I should replace the batteries. Piece of shit scale….
Oh yeah. I didn’t die today. I had a minor breakdown anticipating weigh in tomorrow and discovered where the batteries are in my house (let’s not go there) but I didn’t die. I am fat girl in a co-dependent relationship with her scale running. The experiment continues….