You MOVE!

So Dalekins has bought me this Garmin right. The one that tracks all your comings and goings and tattles on all the Cinnabuns you’ve eaten (cause it’s a dick). I could probably change your DSTV channel for you while sitting on the loo in my own home by just pressing a button. So if your 3-year-old comes to you after you left them watching cBeebies and asks what “The Red Room of pain” is… I apologise, I know not the extent of the exercise-watch-power I wield. …and on a side note let me just say with what these things cost they should be doing the fucking pushups FOR me. Not TELLING me to Move every 10 minutes! You move, and stop telling me how to live my life!

Now why my hubby would buy me (the laziest person on the planet) a Garmin like this, can only mean one thing. He thinks I’m fat.

He SAYS he wants me to exercise to be healthy and to be able to run after Ava one day and to not develop an arthritic arse or something like that, I don’t really know. The minute I hear the word exercise I black out and need a splash of Cab Sav on my face to revive me…

So anyhoo, all this thing has now done is make me completely obsessive about the amount of steps I take! There’s a goal now, and I HAVE to hit it! Stupid fucking thing…

Now I have considered many things. Tying it to a cats paw. Giving it to a teenage boy, telling him to wear it around his wrist and sending him to his room with an old Scope magazine. I have even offered Dale the chance to take it and go have a free wank in the bedroom as long as he wears my watch while doing it, but he said that would only be good for 5 steps and what use is that! (Side Note: Add husband to "To Do" list)

So now I walk (and occasionally skip when no one’s looking). Like a peasant. Who does peasanty things. Like walk.

And when I haven’t hit my goal? I march on the spot like a complete KNOB looking like I’m chewing a toffee with my bum. Like an old Jane Fonda exercise video except minus the pelvic thrusting and add a whole lot of “ooooph!” and “are knees supposed to sound crunchy?”

But I’m not going to lie, when I do hit my goal, this watch vibrates and shoots fireworks on the screen and makes me feel like a shiny new penny. Almost makes me want to pull my shirt up over my head and ski on the grass on my knees like Messi… but I’d have to pick up the dog poo first and aint nobody got time for that…

Sigh, so you win this one Dalekins, you and your subliminal “You need to exercise” messages… less subliminal and more blatant. Don’t think I haven’t noticed that every time I mention I’m craving chocolate you rub my ear and quietly whisper “broccoli broccoli broccoli” in a robotic voice…

But if it helps me to not sprout an extra arse everytime we just drive past a KFC then fine, whatevs…