I Broke the Scale

So I have this habit of checking my weight every morning. Yeah, I know, it's not exactly healthy, but hey, it’s a small obsession I’ve got going on. This morning though? Well, let's just say I accidentally dropped the scale from maybe two feet up onto our kitchen tile floor when I was trying to get into my pajamas and it wouldn't budge after the latest trip to the bakery. The sound of the crash echoed through the whole house and there was a momentary silence before I realized what had happened. I quickly scooped up the pieces, feeling like an idiot for being clumsy. It’s not like we can afford to replace kitchen appliances every day, you know? So, after frantically checking under furniture and in drawers, I came across an old scale of Dad's that he never uses. This one looks older and a bit battered compared to our sleek digital model, but it’ll do the trick until I figure out how to fix or replace my other one without being obvious about it. Every time I step on this new (old) scale though? There’s a little voice in the back of my head whispering that I'm just postponing the inevitable.