Warnings in February 2010

Alright, so this is my year. That’s right you guessed it. I’m turning thirty six. The last time it was my year, I had a great one though Tigers in the year of the Tiger don’t supposed to have a wonderful year. As far as I’ve read, this year is going to be terrible for me, so I’ve decided to do everything necessary to take all measures against having that kind of time. I’m going to start off the New Year as I’ve done for the past three of four years by going on a retreat to Thailand. Unlike the first time I went there thirteen years ago, this time will not involve any lady-boys. That’s too long a story to include here, so I’ll let your imagination run wild on that one. This time, it’s going to be a retreat including a two week fast. I’ve done a two week-er before, but this time the aim will be to lose many if not all of those ten kilos I put on since turning thirty five. Can you believe it? After staying steady at seventy five kilos since being twenty, I suddenly shot up to eighty five kilos in the past year. That’s twenty two pounds extra weight to carry around for you Yanks out there. I can hardly bend down to tie my shoes now that my pants are so tight. I can’t sleep on my stomach anymore. My thighs are so big that I need to put a blanket between them while sleeping on my side, so that they don’t sweat so much. The buttons on my pants have been replaced so many times that our dry cleaner has stopped doing it for me. I keep telling people that I have got this beard because it’s cold outside, but truthfully, it’s to hide my fat face. So back to Thailand I go.

The fast will be a bit difficult for the first couple of days, but once things start to kick in, it’ll be a breeze. Then how do you ask that I’ll keep this weight off? I’m going to keep off the cigarettes for a start. Now you may wonder how this is going to keep my weight off. It’s going to help me eat more regularly. Rather than the usual two cigarettes I have on the toilet each morning, I’m going to eat something healthy. Then rather than the three cigarettes I have over my afternoon espresso, I’m going to eat something again. This’ll put my body on a more regular schedule. Then I’m going to actually get up in the morning before eight, nine, okay before ten o’clock, and get less sleep than I now get. Though it feels good, getting twelve hours of sleep a night can’t be good for anyone. Then I’m going to ride my bike to work at least two times a week. The drink? I’m not going to push it so much on that one. I figure that I’ll go home when the urge to smoke hits me so hard that I can’t resist. That’s not being so unrealistic now is it? Bring on the Tiger!

By Tim Hoerle