High Noon

I am extremely unfriendly on Monday mornings. In fact, everyone that knows me normally avoids me until at least two o'clock in the afternoon, simply because by then, I have resigned myself to the fact that I find myself back at work. However, with the additional non-optional instruction recently added to my Monday mornings, it is recommended that unless it is necessary, all contact with me should be avoided.

On Monday morning, I dragged myself out of bed, already miserable and grumbling about all the meetings that were scheduled for the day, walked into the bathroom - and well, my language use nearly became very unladylike. It sat in the corner, patiently waiting for me, knowing that I had no other option but to step onto it. We stared at each other for about five minutes, before I decided that I should just get it over and done with. The good news was that although there was a minor shortfall again, I did lose weight this past week. However, the weighing is only one part of the instruction; the reporting of it is another. 

The disciplinarian, in all his infinite wisdom had drawn up a spreadsheet, and to my utter disgust, even locked the columns, except where I have to complete the information. Nothing can be changed...not the targets, or his little hidden messages in the thing! As I recorded the weight, the corresponding column on the right hand side turned bright red, with a sweet little message of "You have not reached target, prepare for punishment" in bold, glaring at me. To make matters worse, for every day of the week, I have to record whether I did exercise or not. Last week’s record of exercising was quite impressive, simply because there was none to speak of. Again, I had a column on the right hand bright red telling me gleefully that "You did not exercise - prepare for punishment"

The agreement is that I will mail the sheet to him first thing on Mondays, however, on Tuesday morning; I received a text message querying the non-delivery. I could have given him thirty-seven good reasons why I had not mailed it yet, but simply put, I did not have the courage to submit the thing, and was desperately trying to figure a way out of it, which was not very successful either. The end of this sad tale and my tail for that matter is that I am currently nursing a very red and tender bottom, for today at exactly noon, I was rather firmly reminded about my resolutions about my diet and exercise regime, with the assistance of a cane, a bath and a clothing brush...