Where shall I put my new scale??

It's only the size of a text book but I can't find anyplace to put it. I know it needs to be away so I can't get on it .....oh........20 or 30 thousand times a day to check my progress. Upon taking a good look around, I notice that everything useful and of value to me is out on counters and tables. That's because my closets, cabinets, and drawers are all stuffed with useless crap that I'm terribly busy being in denial about. Stopped chewing......remember??
So here's how it goes: "OH MY GOD!!!.....my life is completely out of control!......and disgustingly dirty and dusty as well!!! Dr Fucking Phil could do an intervention at any moment!"

"You do realize Ms. Houston that on top of being fat, your house is a toxic waste dump. We are going to send you all expenses paid to tubby rehab while our camera crews follow the HazMat team in to what can only be described as............following this commercial break"

OK. Eyes open. I need to get this under control. As Nancy's house goes, so goes her life. Thats a goddamned depressing thought. I'll start right this minute. Here's how it progresses from that thought: stalling stalling "What do I have in the fridge....I want something...apple? nope cottage cheese? God no, edamame? What the fuck is edamame?? Oh yeah, Hilary said thats good. What do I fix with edamame? pork chops? barbeque chicken and edamame? edamame edamame edamame.....that just makes me laugh. Oh look! The Barefoot Contessa is on. I love her. All I need to do to make lovely braised short ribs and edamame is start 4 days in advance. Yeah......that'll happen. Is it lunch time yet?

F O C U S....... Turn off the television, get your little yellow gloves on and accomplish something!!! Today I gutted the spare room. I am still alive, and I still haven't found a place to put the scale, but I'm hopeful.

Up next: The importance of dogs in Nancy's goddamned fitness program....or......why does Nickolai always poop as far away from the poop receptacle as possible during our walks on the fitness trail. The little bag always swings like a tiny Vera Wang purse. What does THAT say about my life!?