Day Twenty Five - another one bites the dust

I've never considered myself a superstitious type. Always found people who name inanimate objects (like their cars) as ridiculous.

Until this diet.

I know the weighing machine is sentient. I know it has an agenda. I know it doesn't like being stood on. And I know it is pursuing a vendetta against me.

And I'm entirely rational.

Oh, and I've given the scales a name ... Judas.