Dysfunctional Scales

I have been weighing myself on an ancient, rusted set of bathroom scales for ages now.  These scales were cheap when I bought them-and have not improved with age.  They're banged and dented and dusty.  But I keep stepping on them anyway.  And in spite of the fact that I have to squint to see the numbers, I have to adjust the needle each time I step on them,  I never get two consecutive readings (she's a fickle bitch!), and they are around 4-7 lbs off (to my favor) from the doc's scales, I cannot throw them away.  And hubby has threatened to on several occasions.  He even wanted to buy me a new set for Xmas.  But the thoughts of losing these scales creates a flutter of anxiety in the pit of my gut.   No!!!!  And start my day without being taunted and haunted?!?  Inconceivable!...  We've been fighting the good fight now for ages.  She's seen me through every horrifying number-back and forth we've made this agonizing journey together.  Simply:  she's been my reality-in spite of her imperfections.  So for the past few days I've been getting up all bleary eyed at the crack of dawn to stand naked (after peeing) on a particular floor tile to weigh in on her after adjusting the needle 7 times (oh! the rituals we suffer....) and because of the dim lighting and the inconsistent readings...she's been toying with me, playing mind games...  but this morning I was ready for her... she can no longer deny the truth.  I am sitting in onederland.   I haven't seen this number since 1998.... I thought this moment would involve a parade, a marching band, a full page add in the paper, and naked cheerleaders.  However, I am feeling a much more quiet and resolute pride than I expected.  Kinda like the climbers who stand on the top of Mt. Everest and report that what you expected to feel is not quite as poignant as expected-considering the mind numbing effort it took to get there.  Because the reality is those climbers have to get down that mountain-a much more difficult feat than the ascent.  And I too have further to go.  But I am here....finally... and glad of it.  And those 'ol scales...fickle-hard-to-please-untrustworthy-bitch that she is... she's gonna be right there with me when we get to the bottom....grudgingly showing me the way.