I said it as a joke.
Gordon and Kieron (the two others on my project team with me) were sitting around in our office talking about work when Kieron decided to step on the scale.
I don’t know why we have a scale in our office.
Gordon put it there.
I didn’t ask him why.
As Kieron stood on it, staring down and waiting for the numbers to stop, I said it.
“We could do a team weight.”
It was a joke.
I’m known to do that, ya know. To make a joke.
I was imagining all three of us trying to balance on the scale at the same time, probably grabbing on to each others’ arms, one foot each barely fitting on, and wondering why the scale didn’t say anything when the limit is 300 lbs.
Gordon and Kieron both took my joke seriously.
And agreed.
And that’s how it began.
We started weighing ourselves in the morning. And then what do we do with that weight?
We write it on the white board right above the scale.
People can see our numbers. Kieron and Gordon don’t care. I don’t care. I wonder, though, if other people care that we don’t care and do we care if they care?
What else is on that white board, you wonder? Halloween drawings: Bart Simpson’s skeleton and a jack-o-lantern.
Would you write your weight on the white board?
Oh HAYULL NO! Sad to me in some weird way but I do care…. Perhaps if I were thinner or less concerned with OPO….. it’s really hard to overcome that early imprinting, those hard wired neural networks that favor caring are really the DEVIL!!! The Devil I tell you! 😀
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