My favorite time of day.

 

Watch Out

 

I have a love-hate relationship.

With my watch.

It has a lot of settings that I never use. There’s one that says “Run.” I never push the button for that one. But there’s one setting that says “Sleep” and shows a little moon. That’s my favorite setting. I take that one to heart. I push the button for that one when I’m in my recliner and the ball game is on. That way I always win.

I have a friend who has a watch that calls for help when she falls down. Emergency Responders already think I have them on speed dial. There’s talk about moving their office across the street from my house. 

I’d rather have a food truck.

I think my watch spies on me at night. In the morning it always knows how many times I got up to go to the bathroom the night before. Don’t tell my watch, but I was getting cookies all those times. Well, almost all of those times. Once I got pizza.

My watch is the sort of watch that thinks it knows everything about you; when you should be asleep but are awake because you can’t remember the name of that man you need to call to clean the carpets  at the office, when you should exercise but the Greek festival comes only once a year and doesn’t walking to the pastry table count for your steps total, and when you’re doing wind sprints to practice for the Olympics.

Wait. What?

I’ve never done a wind sprint. Not even in gym class. My last gym class was in 1973.

My watch disagreed. It said I ran for eighteen minutes.

I haven’t run a total of eighteen minutes in 65 years.

It said I burned a whole bunch of calories. This is the part where I love my watch.

But one day it said I burned up a lot less calories doing the same thing I always do.

As you know, being a loyal reader of my exciting lifestyle blog, I exercise sitting down. Three or four times a week I sit down very fast which keeps my doctors happy. My watch usually says I sat down very fast long enough to subtract the steak biscuit I eat to give me the energy to sit down fast for an hour.

This time it said I was a slacker. Which is usually true, but wasn’t this time.

This is the part where I hate my watch. It is mean-spirited to lie about biscuit calories.

Then I noticed. It’s battery was low. It needed a recharge.

I did, too.

So I plugged my watch in and went off in search of a cookie.

Now we both feel better.