There's nothing wrong with me

It's true, there's nothing wrong with me.
My new doctor told me so.  She forced me to have 40 bucketfuls of blood sucked out of all my orifices and she concocted them somehow in a test tube, shaken, not stirred, and she came up with the diagnosis of "Kim, there's nothing wrong with you."

I was rather disappointed actually.  I wanted a thyroid problem.  I've heard there are some great pills you can get for thyroid problems that help you lose weight.  I was looking forward to being able to say "Oh dear, what a shame I have to go on that medication... are you really sure I have to?" and then running out the door of the surgery straight to the chemist and the pie shop and singing Hallelujah while I poured the tomato sauce on and tucked in.

Bugger.  What would that bitch know anyway?

Oh she did have one little thing to add but it didn't give me any great excitement.  "Your cholesterol is up a bit, but only a little bit, and it can probably be fixed with a bit of regular exercise so don't worry about it, it's nothing dramatic".

Bitch.

Surely to God there is some other way to fix it other than .... gulp.... exercise.   What a filthy word that is.  Any word with an x in it is filthy.  Think about it... eXtra calories, taX, maXimum effort, taXidermy, eXtreme sports... aXe murderer.

I don't want to eXercise.  I hate eXercise.

sigh.

Think I'll have another cup of tea.  I'll be good and won't have a biscuit.  Well it is only 8am I suppose, but somewhere in the world it's afternoon tea time and they'll be having biscuits with their cup of tea so I really am doing International Dieting if I refrain from a biscuit now.
I'll even walk out to the kitchen to get the tea, and walk back to my study to sit down and workout on the computer for the day.  My hands get a lot of exercise.

I do have thin fingers, even if they are starting to get a bit knobbly on the joints from arthritis.  And my hands have got a few brown spots on them now from not being wrapped in kid gloves all their lives.  Only the rich so and so's have smooth hands when they reach this age.  They never watched Brenda the Palmolive lady on the ads and wished for green Palmolive dishwashing liquid because it "softens hands while you do the dishes". They probably had someone do it for them.

Hey, there's a start, that's how I can begin to fix the fact there is nothing wrong with me and that's why I'm overweight and looking a bit shabby around the gills.  I'll buy some hand cream.

Doctor Doalot, my eldest daughter who used to care for animals but now breeds her own two legged ones and cares for them brilliantly, has started selling "organically environmentally whalefree smell like a 70's back row of the Horden Pavillion rock show recycled biodegradable non political multicultural save the pigeons and their poo" skin care and make up products so I'll get some off her.

It will be a start.  I'll sit down and rub it in and think about how there is nothing wrong with me and how the hell I am going to fix that terrible problem.