Scales

I never reveal my weight to anyone. I simply couldn't. It's just too awful. Too embarrasing. To shocking for anyone else to hear. It's bad enough that I have to know it. Actually mostly I don't know what it is exactly, but I can always tell practically exactly what I am, because whenever I start a diet I am usually around the same humungous size.

Recently I had to have an operation. I attended the pre-op clinic where you are checked over and deemed healthy and fit for the operation. Part of this is being weighed so that you are given the correct dose of knock you out juice. The hospital clinic I had to attend was in a hospital that is currently being demolished and re-built. Consequently the large set of scales were not in the room that you are seen in. Oh no matey, they are in a corridor, a waiting area, a public thoroughfare, a place full of people. Oh the indignity of it. When that lovely nurse saw my face as she announced my weight to everyone sitting waiting, she said "don't worry these scales always weigh you a bit heavier". Oh I guess that makes it alright then!!!

Ok, so I have made it to day 5 of the diet. And so far it really hasn't been too bad. But something rather odd happens to me when I am dieting. I become obsessed with the scales. And I mean obsessed. Usually I never ever weigh myself. This is because I know I am a whale disguised as a woman and I just don't want to know how much blubber there really is. But once I have decided that I must diet the scales take on a whole new meaning.

First of all there is the initial weigh-in. For me it takes a lot of courage to get on the scales, and confirm what a pig I actually am. Courage and psyching myself up over the course of a few days is always the drill. Then I fiddle about with the scales and make sure that they are very definately reading zero exactly, and boy do I mean exactly. Then I make sure that the surface that the scales are on is exactly flat, and I mean exactly flat! Then I check they are on zero again, then after a personal pep talk, I very gingerly stand on them. I forgot to mention that I only ever do the initial wiegh in, first thing in the morning, naked and after fully emptying my bladder A full bladder weighs heavy you know!

I wait a while before I open my eyes and read what they measure. Then I jiggle about a bit to see if the weight drops down a bit......then sadly I have to accept that I weigh the most I have ever weighed in my whole entire life. I usually have a little cry because I am so disgusted with myself and then shove them back in the wardrobe again.

Then what happens next is very odd indeed. The obsession with weighing myself kicks in immediately! I feel almost compelled to weigh myself, several times a day, every single day! So almost overnight I go from not wanting to know how heavy I am to being desperate to see the ounces drop off! I have no explanation for this, except maybe that it's a woman thing!

Now my lovely partner does not have this obsession with weight/food/dieting, of course not, he is a man. I remember when he joined the gym a couple of years ago, and he went for the health check and had to be weighed. He asked them not to tell him how much he weighed, and they didn't. So he didn't know how much he weighed then and he doesn't know now. He simply doesn't care. He likes to feel fit and healthy, and measures his weight by how his clothes fit. To him it's that simple.

When I moan and go on about resembling a heffalump, he simply tells me that he does not care how much I weigh, and that he loves me for me, and that the person that you are inside is what is important, and inside I am lovely and outside I am as pretty as freshly fallen snow. (He really did say that a few days ago). Can it be that simple? It must be a man thing.