Fluctuating fortunes are somewhat alien to me

Aliens are diabolical. They are masters of mind control. They can taken a normal woman and turn her into a raving obsessed lunatic with the flash of a dial. Yes it was weight day. First 4 scale readings on my electronic scales (I am nothing if not thorough) reported that I was a whopping 2.5 kgs smaller than last week. I knew they were having me on. So I walked away for three minutes then came back. Those 3 readings so I was now a kilo lighter than the same time and day last week.

Now I should have been happy with that, but no, I had to challenge the aliens. I had to weight myself again. Twice, actually. Back to 2.5.

I then lost all composure. I moved the scales to different floor positions, tried walking on with first the right foot, then the left foot. I did it in fast succession. Multiple times. Went away and dried my hair a little more until I risked looking like the triangular haired girl out of Dilbert. Weighed again. The readings ricocheted between the two figures.

I pulled myself together when I heard a noise and realized I was groaning and mumbling to myself. The aliens were playing the tune and I was twirling around my bathroom like a frenzied member of the Irish Riverdance troupe. I am glad the bathroom door was closed, so that no close family member witnessed Mother having more than a moment.

Reason would have told any sane women to split the difference and feel superior, but I think it is fairly well established I am a little short on sanity, especially under stress. I could have also not been greedy and sensibly embraced the1 kilo reading as a job well down. No, I had to try outwitting those aliens.

I shook the scales before replacing them on the floor and alighting once more. The top half of two electronic red zeros glared back at me. It refused to give me a coherent reading.

Do I take this as a godsend as the alien saga could now be put to rest? Or do I go out and purchase new bathroom scales, and maybe a tape measure to measure my circumference as a counterbalance to error? Oh, and a hair shirt (this season’s color of course!), all the better to torment myself with…

Weighty issues indeed.