So, what really got to me was the humiliation of the doctor advising me to lose weight. Splendid chap, yes he's right and all that, but it wasn't very polite of him, was it? I've known him for years, our children went to school together and we meet at parties and stuff. And I'm not that fat. Not really. Am I? Tell me, Badgerdaddy, am I really that fat?*
So, I sniffled miserably for a bit - confirmation of the arthritis added to the gloom a bit, and it wasn't until the middle of the night that determination set in, which was when I decided to go and buy the bike. It had to be new and expensive, because I don't waste money, so I would then have to use it.
I will say, having moaned mightily in my last post, that the Sage appreciates me no end. He is reet proud. Not that he says so. He tells other people though - not about the diet, that'd be rudely personal and he's vastly polite, but that he's proud of me for doing something actively about my hip. They tell me. They also tell me that Al boasts about me. This is sweet. In other respects, the Sage makes clear his appreciation. He can hardly keep his hands off me. This is splendid and most enjoyable, even with my present lack of flexibility.
I'm wondering - jesus, I can never resist planning ahead - what excuse I can formulate for going to the doctor in another six or nine months. You know, when the weight loss will be very noticeable and I can slink in through a crack in the door hinge. I don't want to be ill, obviously. I just want him to weigh me and change my medical record, without having to embarrass myself again and ask him to.
Right, I'm just off to buy the day's vegetables. Got to keep a good supply of carrots, or I might eat something foolish.
*honesty is appreciated, darling boy, if I do strike you as an absolute porkster you can tell me. After all, I'm half a stone lighter than when you last saw me, so I'll take that into account.