Let Them Eat Cake!

For the last forty years, the numbers on the bathroom scale have stared back at me with a stark reality I find discomforting.  It doesn't matter if they are near my "alarm" number or if they are near my lowest number.  Neither end of the spectrum will please me.

"Dear Scale, 

 

It's no longer your fault that I hate you.  It's my fault.  When your LED digits teeter too high, I worry about my butt.  Will I fit into my jeans?  Is a muffin top sure to appear soon?  How many calories do I have left today?

As your number fell to a decade's low, my happiness was tempered by the appearance of saggy and crepe laden skin.  WHAT?  Losing weight doesn't mean attractiveness anymore?"

 Sigh.  Weight gain and weight loss must take a back seat to skin laxity.  How long will it take me to become an expert on this dilemma and where can I buy a skin scale?