F : August 1st 2002

My new relationship has taken a disastrous turn. We've been seeing
each other for five weeks, a couple of meals, a few drinks, a picnic.
Everything seemed to be going so well. But today she used the dreaded
word. We were chatting easily enough, making plans for the weekend, she
put her arm around me and said.............. and said........."You're
cuddly". I was gutted, as she had obviously noticed.

Let me say immediately to any women reading this, never use those
words. Not to a man you're dating, especially if he's over 40. They are
only permissible after you've been married for at least 20 years, and
then only when he's asleep.

Got home this evening and went for an immediate check-up in the
bathroom mirror. Someone has stolen my waistline. It used to be there,
a definite indentation between the ribs and the hips, but it's gone.
I'm cuddly. On with the trainers and tracksuit bottoms, no time to
lose. Love can move mountains they say, but nothing can move excess
poundage like the motivating force of middle-aged male vanity.

An hour later and I'm back from my run-jog-walk-wheeze. I make it to
the top of the stairs with difficulty, and recheck the scales. They're
faulty. They just don't make stuff to last any more. I'm gasping, I
need a cup of tea. And some chocolate digestives.