Sunday was not a good day. I was giving a weekend course. On my weekend courses, I don’t have very long to make a good impression. It is important that I make a good impression, because my pay depends on the post-course questionnaire that all the attendees (like that’s a real word) fill in. On Sunday morning I grabbed the maximum amount of sleep I could, having stayed up late to watch the most enjoyable Eurovision Song Contest in years. So I have to admit I got dressed in a bit of a rush.
I was about twenty minutes into the course, and I was giving instructions to the attendees, with 21 pairs of eyes on me, when I felt something stroking my ankle. Thinking it was a frisky insect, I shook my leg, and Saturday’s pair of socks fell to the floor. They were a dashing pair of stripy flourescent green. I picked them up and put them in my pocket. The worst part was that even though everyone clearly saw it, no-one smiled, no-one cracked a joke. We all engaged in a mutual conspiracy of silence. It was awful! After a few minutes, I noticed a bit of a foot pong emerging from my right hip. I spent the rest of the morning till lunch sidling around like a crab, trying to approach everyone from my left.
Later in the day, I happened to be walking past a homeless guy on the street, when he roared at me and called me “Big Fella”. Now, strangers regularly call me this, and I have been called a “Fat Fuck” more than once while I walked down the street. I find it distressing every time.
I wasn’t in the best mood when I hopped on the scales. They didn’t tell me what I wanted to hear, so I jumped up and down for a while and went to the toilet. My results improved marginally. Here, for what it’s worth, they are:
Neck: 17.75 inches/ 45.3 cm
Arm: 15.5 inches/ 39.3 cm
Waist: 57.5 inches/ 145.8 cm
Chest: 52 inches/ 132 cm
Thigh: 31 inches/ 78.8 cm
Weight: 22 st 6.25 lbs (314.25 lbs/ 142.5 kg) That’s a loss of half a pound or, apparently zero kilos.
BMI is still 47.7, and my body fat is 9 st 4.5 lbs or 41.5%.
Wish me luck. I need it!