When I realised it was Friday 13th I very nearly abandoned my plans to weigh in but I reasoned it was just silly superstition and went ahead anyway. Maybe if I’d remembered that the only speeding ticket Commando has ever got was on Friday 13th…
Confession time. It’s been ten days since my last weigh in and, in that time, I’ve flown to Prague and eaten without a thought in the world for what I put in my mouth. I’ve eaten big loaves filled with goulash, drunk huge mugs of hot chocolate and goodness knows what else. There was a minuscule shred of hope that all that walking on cobbles might just have worked it all off, that and the walks to work. What was I thinking?
My body is a machine, highly tuned and very efficient at turning food into fat. In a country struggling through famine I’d count myself one of the lucky ones. Here, with food readily available twenty four hours a day, it doesn’t feel quite so much of a good fortune. The damage could have been worse, just a pound gained, but I can’t help thinking I’m slipping back, betrayed by my slow metabolism and my genetic predisposition to convert everything into fat. Well, that and the fact that I can’t seem to stop eating crap at every opportunity.
Today is my team’s rest day. Soon I will be having every Friday off but, as a pay off for the privilege, I will have to slog my way through four ten hour shifts. It is t something I’m looking forward to. So, in the absence of my team, I sat with a different team, more new people to meet. This job seems to be constantly throwing up new trails and tests.
A mountain of a man sat beside me. He introduced himself as Fitz and spent the whole day trying to make me laugh while I was in the phone. It wasn’t the most productive of days but I survived it without causing too much damage. There were no sales, although Fitz, for all his joking got four five star sales and four maintenance contracts. Will I ever be any good at this?
The rain was teaming down when I left the office. High winds whipped it into my face and the streets ran with water like a river. The last insult to be heaped on me by Friday 13th was a soaking to the skin on my way home. Oh well, you win some, you lose some.