A funny thing happened on the way to the scales...

Oh boy. It's Monday. Why on earth did I decide to make Mondays weigh-in days?!? Why did I choose the first day of the work week?!? Why the day after the weekend when indulgence is most tempting and most prevalent?!? Why? WHY, GOD, WHY?!?!?

I awoke at 5 am this morning. A Monday. A Monday following a weekend of family visitations, rainy weather, and even an evening on the town. Ugh! I hate Monday! As with the last 6 Mondays, I ease out of my warm king-sized bed being careful not to wake my dear, sleeping dog; oh and my husband too. I creep down the hallway toward the bathroom, barefoot, and a shiver runs down my spine. I wince and squint as I flip the switch and intense, 100 watt light engulfs me. I blink several times before the small devil square on the floor becomes clear. The numbers...those dreaded numbers...numbers which seem somehow to define not only how I see myself but how everyone else sees me as well... To maintain uniformity, I strip off my nightshirt which forces me to acknowledge that person that resides in the mirror stretching the very length of the room. Her hair is a tangle of light brown straw and it is evident that she has forgotten to remove her make up the night before AGAIN. In a word, she looks...well...drunk. I suddenly feel as though I might really be hung over, though I haven't drank in weeks. Remembering the purpose of this trip, I turn my eyes downward to the floor and stare at the blank face of my oppressor. The decider of my fate. The one object that will determine whether it is a good day or a bad day. "I'll weigh myself tomorrow" and I walk past the monster. It continues to glare at me as I relieve myself. It eats at my conscience and reminds me of the committment I made to myself at the end of June. "Fine, you win!" I tap the corner of this destroyer of souls and see it's hideous face light up with joy at the chance of defeating me again. I gingerly step on its textured surface and await its judgement. It's face blinks for an eternity as it sizes me up... "I could still stop it. It would only take one little step. One little step to avoid my destiny today." But I am too late. It has returned it's fatal answer...

I had lost 1.8 pounds this week; a total of 13.5 for 6 weeks. I am so shocked that I actually repeat the entire process four more times before I finally leave the bathroom. With a sense of great pride and accomplishment, I leave the atrocity to itself and consider the victories to come. Hopefully, when I again face my adversary, I will be certain of my victory. I will not lose the battle before I have begun the fight. I will be prepared to face my opponent with confidence and self-assurance. I love Mondays!!!