Among the many things lost in the flood was my anti-baby pills so today I toddled off to the family planning clinic feeling like an irresponsible teenager and worrying they'd send me to the STI clinic by mistake again (this did actually happen, on taking my sexual history the nurse just looked at me, laughed, and asked what the hell I was doing there, I felt like such a prude).
I had a lovely doctor who weighed me and revealed I've lost a stone in two months. Hooray.
The doctor made me weigh myself twice to be sure and congratulated me on my achievement. She then beamingly turned to the body mass index (BMI) chart and proudly pointed out that I after all that hard work and slog, all those rainy rides and forcing myself into condom-like shorts I am now slap bang in the middle of the overweight category.
Seriously. Why do I bother?
She then took my blood pressure and said it was 'worryingly high'. Was I stressed?
Well, my father's still recovering from a major stroke, my arthritis is playing up, I'm hugely stressed at work because I had to take the day off work on Friday for a massive leak that's ruined my bedroom, forced me to move all my belongings into the living room and sleep in a room that smells of mould, damp and wet plaster and you've just told me that even though I've lost a stone all it's done is taken me out of obese and put me in the merely overweight category.
No I can't think of anything, everything's f***ing peachy thanks.