My scale needs lithium

Shifter again.

Not to obsess too much on the scale (too late), but I've decided I happen to have the only digital scale I know of with a diagnosable mental disorder. That's the problem with smart electronics - as soon as they get too smart they get a personality, and as soon as they get a personality they can have a disorder. Mine has Bipolar Disorder. I mean seriously, very wild mood swings. Let me give you an example.

Last night I got on the scale. He was in a grumpy mood. I mean downright peevish. I step on the scale and he kind of snarls and ponders, then spits out "207". No way. I mean no way! That would mean I'd gained 10 pounds in the previous 4 days. I don't even think I ate 10 pounds of food in that time. I try to explain this to the scale, reason with him. Then I remember my previous post (and so do you, right? Because you've been reading them all and we love you for it, you imaginary people you!) and decide to try it again. Well, he's willing to give me a 3 pound drop. Now I'm only 204. Still a 7 pound gain. And this time he's dug in his heels. He was mad enough giving me the extra 3 pounds and he's not changing his mind. I've officially gained 7 pounds. Ouch.

So this morning I get up, go for a 7 mile run, come on in, and notice the scale is kind of smiling at me. Almost a conspiratorial kind of smile. If it had an eye, it would have winked. Don't ask how it smiles without a mouth, that's a long and almost metaphysical essay that's way too involved for our present topic. So anyway, there he is smirking without a mouth, winking without an eye, and I figure what the hell. I step on. Good morning, he chirps, today you weight 199. Wow, I think. Dropped 5 pounds in 1 night's sleep and 1 run. Pretty amazing. Better double check. So I step back on. Oh, alright you big charmer, he hums at me, you really weigh 196.5. And that's the story he sticks to for the rest of the morning. I know cause I keep asking him, stepping on again and again. To the point I'm almost late to work. 196.5, 196.5, 196.5. Heck, I'm lucky the wind didn't blow me away before I made it into the building, a skinny fellow like me!

So clearly either my body is just oozing on, and then dropping off, pounds of fat every other hour, or my scale needs professional help. Lithium should do the trick. How to force the pills down the metaphorical mouth, not to mention obtain the required blood level tests, is still undetermined. I'll keep you posted.