The Bastard

Yes, that would be the scale.  A scale like they have in the doctor's office.  A scale that does not lie. 

I bought it years ago, thinking a good cold splash of reality each morning would keep me on track.  Not.  Instead, I had to keep sliding the top weight farther and farther to the right.  I began to hate that scale and moved it to Jerry's bathroom. I replaced it with a digital scale called "Thinner" (in this case named by the manufacturer) that was reliably a half-pound lighter.  Glory be.

The scientist keeps track of his weight

Jerry took up with The Bastard and cheerfully records his weight on a chart taped to the cupboard door in his bathroom.  This is because he never gains weight and because The Bastard likes men better.

Eventually, "Thinner" gave up the ghost, and I replaced her with another "Thinner," but this one's a bitch.   She registers my weight a pound and a half higher than The Bastard does. 

Now, each morning I slink into Jerry's bathroom and have a reluctant confrontation with The Bastard, but the minute Thinner gets her act together, I'm back in my bathroom like a shot. 

But no chart.