Fat Bugger Part 5

Oops--- it’s been a while. So, how have I gone? I have had lots of good walks. We had ‘sports day’ at the school where I work and my job was ‘wandering security’ on the tennis courts. None of the students are anywhere near there, as they should all be on the large fields and I very much doubt that anyone would be able to climb the high fences. ‘Course they can,’ you say. ‘After all they are teenagers; no fence could keep them out.’ You’re wrong. These fences are something else. Now you’re saying, ‘But why would you want to keep students out?’

Fair question, however it’s more about keeping students safe and that my friends is the reality in many schools now.

OK, back to the ‘news.’ I am getting fitter and not fatter. I don’t know what the scales will say, but when I weigh in next time (in about two months, hopefully the figures will be more favourable. I know that I felt good when I walked around my patch and I regularly left my lonely ‘post’ and trooped off to see the kids in all of their crazy ‘house colours.’ Like most NZ secondary school, we have a system of House Colours and in this case they are named after five NZ native trees. I have to say that I enjoyed walking around for four hours, catching up with the students and teachers.

After school, which finished early, I was able to take Perdy down to the lagoon. (Watch out for my upcoming blog, where I am going to release my latest book, chapter by chapter---TALK TO ME---Perdy features under a pseudonym and I star as a ‘talk back radio host). I managed two rounds of the lagoon--- no it’s not a fancy name for a golf course--- and only then did I feel tired.

What about my ‘fuel intake’? Well my kilometres per litre have definitely improved. I can walk further without making an excuse like:  ‘I’ve got a sore leg so I will have to stop now,’ or ‘I have to get home because my Aunty is coming for dinner.’

‘Cut to the chase,’ you say and, ‘stop dicking around.’ Well, I don’t know. I refuse to use my lying bathroom scales. I only weigh myself at the doctor, after he has chased me around his office and I have prevaricated for several minutes.

I have really tried to watch what I eat. I don’t need any advice, because I have heard it all before. (Like Madonna says---‘I don’t wanna hear, I don’t wanna know; please don’t say you’re sorry!’) I do fine for breakfast and lunch. It is AFTER DINNER that causes me trouble or to be more honest; that is when trouble finds me. I get ‘pleas for help from the cookie canister, imploring me to ‘liberate’ them. They hate been shut away in the confines of that narrow tin. Sometimes the bread demands that I spread it with peanut butter and chuck on a slab of cheese. OMG, it makes me salivate to think about it. Herein lays my demise and I fight it like its WW3.

I seek out allies in my battle and that’s where you all come in. COME ON, MAKE SOME COMMENTS. Like I said before---‘I don’t care if you’re rude, or bring out all the old clichés’--- just do it! You may inspire others--- there are so many of us out there, fighting to get control.

OK—that’s enough for today. Remember to look out for my blog about a café in Te Atatu tomorrow.

OH YES-----PERDY IS COMING, SO SHE CAN HELP WITH THE REVUE