New living situation presents one v. annoying problem.
Roommate owns scale. Never had one before as can easily become panicked by irritating, pulsing digital numbers announcing my sins of gluttony (suffer from great affinity for M&Ms). Have tried ignoring its existence, but was overcome with curiosity this morning after stepping out of not-nearly-long-enough shower. So, tried to make friends with white, blockish digital scale. Cooed and coddled cold, horrible enemy of self esteem and finally (after squeezing all water from hair, as adds unneccessary poundage), tapped scale with toe and waited for the red zeros to halt in their blinking. Stepped up, ready to smash beast with blowdryer or other small, yet threatening appliance, and to utter shock, was at acceptable weight. Am satisfied. Will never have to weigh self again. Should not have to face such apprehension on regular basis. Am amazed people own them on purpose. Horrid things.
Am sure irritability is only enhanced by fact that newly-acquired Reluctant Kitten seems to be paranoid skitzophrenic. Am used to having relatives in such predicament, but was hoping kitten would be somewhat normal. Am taking many deep breaths. Kitten will love me.
Eventually.