This morning she was in my bathroom just staring at me all like:
"Come on! You know you want to. Just hop on. It could be good- you could be down! Wouldn't that make you happy?"
And I'm like: "Yeah, but what if I'm not. Then I'll be depressed all day."
And Scales like: "Nah, you'll be fine. If you're down then you'll just move on and do better."
And I'm like: "You always say that but I'm never fine. I get upset. It wrecks my day. It's not worth it."
Scales all "Whatever, it's just a number."
And I say: "Exactly."
And so I had a moment where I was done. I decided I would throw her out my bathroom window. Right here, right now. Yeah. After all- it feels better tossing something out the window than carefully placing it in the trash, right? I mean, the drama of it all makes you feel all empowered inside, no? I am woman, here me roar!
Said window (Note roof):
Well wait. Hold on. I have to remove the screen.
And, oh, wait I need both hands so I can't take a pic.
And I tossed!
Aaaaaand..... it landed on the roof.
And to make matters worse- my neighbor pulls out of his driveway and looks up RIGHT as it lands on the roof. "Yes, yes. I'm having an Oprah moment. Move on."
I lean out and grab the scale. I almost tossed it again but then thought I'd end up killing my outdoor cat in my Empowered Moment.
So I settled for Goodwill pile at the top of the stairs....
So my roar was more like a meow. But it still counts, right?
It was surprisingly hard. I do really well with impulse decisions. But impulsively "tossing" her was harder than I thought. Kinda like putting wax on your lip and getting ready to rip the hair out. There's that moment of hesitation where you can't do it. But then you do. And you get those little boogers and you pretend you're a hairless wonder for 1.5 weeks. And so I tossed her.