Scale-Climbing

So after months of deciding, I finally got myself a weighing scale.  I hesitated for months only because I wasn’t sure about keeping a scale in my room lest I become obsessed with weighing myself again. I somehow, have always been comfortable with my body (even though I’m ‘pleasantly plump’) but since turning quarter-centurion (??), I decided to watch my weight. Vanity plays a questionable role in this decision. It’s not hilarious when you have to try on 23 pairs of jeans to find the perfect one which fits your curves! But mostly, I’ve become health conscious after years of watching my father with hypertension and an aunt with osteoporosis. With weak hearts from my father’s line and cancer from my mother’s side, I must say, I should be taking good care of my health.

I’ve finally kicked the habit of stocking up instant noodles in my room (the noodles in my tuck shelf are my roommates’! Pinky swear! And I promised to stop sharing!), stopped with fizzy drinks, cut down on red meat  pork, increased raw chlorophyll intake and started getting up early to go jogging! Phew!! And to top of all my hard work, I finally got around to having a scale in my room, hoping it’ll inspire me to weigh less stay fit!

Phabo (Read boyfriend) showed support in my recent fight for fitness and announced with pride that he’d buy me the scale. But after seeing the price tag and being the cool girlfriend that I am, I volunteered to pay half! I came back to my room proudly carrying the scale. My roommate screamed “Reality Check!!” when she saw me. Reality Check indeed!

So it’s been a few days since I bought it. And my favourite pastime is climbing on top of the scale. I check my weight before I eat, after I’ve eaten, before I go to bed, as soon as I get out of bed, with jeans, without jeans, with jacket, without jacket, with heels, bare feet, with boots, pre-library time, post-library time, pre-centre visits, post-centre visits. You name it, I’ve done it! It’s more like a game to me, climbing on it.

But unlike my fascination with naming everything I frequently use (like my e-toothbrush - Dr.Hawlkima , my e-blanket -  Lalbela , my hairbrush - Prof. Tawnengi,  my mini-fridge – Sir Viking , my hot-water bag - Calvin HotBod, my netbook - Lady Scarlett, mp3player – Pastor Zairemsiama, my woofer – Upa Thumvunga, my phone - Tv. Phuntinthanga etc.),  I haven’t quite come up with a name for this blue beast of burden weighing scale. And after all that he’s been through, I believe he deserves a really good name! Poor thing, I’m literally riding it! I can imagine him grunting “No! Not again!” every time I go near it. Of course, that imagination doesn’t stop me from doing what I do best – scale-climbing!

So it’s back to square one! I AM obsessed with weighing myself! I am, however, crystal clear with the fact that this obsession alone won’t help me stay fit. After all, I’m obsessed with weighing myself, and not with controlling my weight!

And with the hope that this obsession, just like all other obsessions, will one day wear off, I go scale climbing, yet again!