A NEW DAY

First thing I do when I open my eyes in the morning is check the time and work out what I'm supposed to be doing, then I switch on the laptop. So, how does the day escape? Is sucked into my evil clutches to be dawdled and frittered away while my mind flits across the net, forgetting that time is of the essence?

I confess – I am a time-waster. I need rules. The year has half-gone; last time looked it was spring.

Tonight is my first appointment with the health and fitness trainer. The doctor referred me in order to regain any future that might be allotted to me. There will be rules and regulations there.

I need to take a ruler and draw a margin down the side of my life, insert some kind of time-table, measure action against inaction – do the accounts before they become due because this inspector isn’t collecting tax!

Good health has followed me all the days of my life, so far, but if I don’t pay attention it might desert me for another – maybe it’ll have an affair with the woman across the road… God knows she needs it.

I confess; I have been careless and uncaring, presumptuous of time but now the borderline is racing towards me. Where are my manners? I should welcome a new world order and set the table with a freshly-embroidered cloth, and, plant a menu in the centrepiece to catch my wandering eye.

Much later…

Well, my fears were justified; two readings of high blood pressure put a stop to the proceedings until I see my doctor to discover if it’s a fluke or a problem. Am I late? Too late for a very important date? Put your scythe away Reaper, I’ll be battering down the door of the health centre in the morning. I’ll be back.