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...


Poppy said...

They should not be allowed to be that high tech!
How can we even begin to escape?
Your lover sounds very, very cunning.
I am scared just reading it.

dd said...

Ouch,ouch, ouch...

Raven the idea of a spreadsheet for misdemeaneors has not even occurred to my BBH yet...I do have to report a debits & credits each day! But he is so techno, it is bound to come!

So sorry you're sore, but it's working to an end result...

Hugs & arnica xx

ps I don't think the UK immigration weigh you on entry...yet :)

Michael said...

A cane, a bath brush and a clothing brush, sounds like your Top cares for you greatly, R-squared. Lucky girl.

Brett said...

What a splendid use of conditional formatting. I enjoy spreadsheets, so the idea of creating formulas to deliver bright red spanking messages appeals on more than one level.

Congrats again on getting closer to your goals, and I hope you're sitting comfortably by the time you read this. XO

Raven Red said...

I will rather not go the route trying to explain what I think when completing that sheet.
Complimentary it is NOT! :)

Raven Red said...

LOL! If the UK immigration would only worry about my weight...I have had enough of points, calculators, open and closed tiers, that I am non-EU and what have you nots...

Raven Red said...

It does seem that my understanding of the word "lucky" might be vastly different to yours...erm, just saying. :)

Raven Red said...

Thank you for the congrats - but for the rest? Why am I not surprised? LOL!

ronnie said...


I'm glad P doesn't read around the blogs because I'd hate him to find yours. It's my weigh-in tomorrow :)


Raven Red said...

I do not know how I land up in these little situations where it is deemed necessary to use such extreme measures.
Good luck for your weigh-in, mine is coming up fast and furious..again (sigh)



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