Dear bathroom scale,
I am really sick of your shit.
You manage to make me feel like a complete failure every time I see you! I weigh in each week and then stare back at myself in the mirror and honestly think… “How can I weigh this much, and still look SO hot?”. You keep telling me I’m not good enough. You say..”stay in, don’t eat that. Don’t drink that. Have some water if you feel hungry…” well, you know what? I’ve had about enough of your attitude! I need to focus less on pounds and more on speed. That is the main goal for the marathon in June.
I have tried so desperately to please you. I have carefully tracked every single morsel and beverage that enters my digestive system by the gram. It is a constant struggle because carbs will always love me more than you do! They hold onto me tight and never want to let go. It’s not their fault. We belong together… no, it’s not me, it is so you.
Hey, I never said I was going to be perfect! In fact, I no longer want this never ending illusion of perfect you so questionably offer. Therefore, I no longer need you! Tomorrow, you meet the first day of the rest of your life in the bottom of the dumpster. It should be a fantastic fit for you. You guys can talk “trash” about everything around you together. You and your transparent foundation of complete bullshit. I see you scale… I see right through you, in more ways than one.
The tired feet above you.