Flicking the bean
Back at the gym this morning for the first time in a long time and the rowing machine was a bit of a fag as I had to reach over my pot belly in order to get to the ‘oars’. Huffed and puffed away while wondering if rowing machines in Greek gyms are arranged like ancient galleys with rowers stacked one on top of the other.
The two results of my visit was the only thing that got a real work out was my deodorant and that now, at lunch time, I’m hungry enough to eat fresh fox from the bonnet of a mad motorist. Luckily I have tuna and anchovy (pucker up people!) on white so know that at any moment I can fall on that like something from a wildlife documentary.
Read somewhere once that hunger is man’s natural state (mine, I have to admit, is slightly drunk/hungover/feeling a little queasy from eating all those crisps) and that not so many years ago man would walk about the plains famished, then knock a mastodon over the head and eat until he could eat no more, then lie there and wonder when somebody is going to hurry up and invent the dishwasher while licking mastodon fat off of his fingers.
Being hungry, it’s said, concentrates the mind. This, I think, is bollocks, as otherwise countries that experience famine would have been first to the moon. What it concentrates the mind on is your next meal.
However, if, like me, you decide to down a beaker of coffee as an appetite suppressant, you find that you are unable to concentrate on anything much. Indeed, it becomes a little difficult to pilot a train of thought all the way from the sidings to the station without the sort of derailment that generates enquiries and, more importantly, folk songs.
The trick is to time your lunch so that you don’t end up with your blood sugar in your boots, only having enough energy to be irritated at people.
Two things coffee does for sure - gives you (false) energy to type a lot faster than normal and hence gives spellchecker one hell of a work out.
The two results of my visit was the only thing that got a real work out was my deodorant and that now, at lunch time, I’m hungry enough to eat fresh fox from the bonnet of a mad motorist. Luckily I have tuna and anchovy (pucker up people!) on white so know that at any moment I can fall on that like something from a wildlife documentary.
Read somewhere once that hunger is man’s natural state (mine, I have to admit, is slightly drunk/hungover/feeling a little queasy from eating all those crisps) and that not so many years ago man would walk about the plains famished, then knock a mastodon over the head and eat until he could eat no more, then lie there and wonder when somebody is going to hurry up and invent the dishwasher while licking mastodon fat off of his fingers.
Being hungry, it’s said, concentrates the mind. This, I think, is bollocks, as otherwise countries that experience famine would have been first to the moon. What it concentrates the mind on is your next meal.
However, if, like me, you decide to down a beaker of coffee as an appetite suppressant, you find that you are unable to concentrate on anything much. Indeed, it becomes a little difficult to pilot a train of thought all the way from the sidings to the station without the sort of derailment that generates enquiries and, more importantly, folk songs.
The trick is to time your lunch so that you don’t end up with your blood sugar in your boots, only having enough energy to be irritated at people.
Two things coffee does for sure - gives you (false) energy to type a lot faster than normal and hence gives spellchecker one hell of a work out.
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