The Source of Praise Matters

I relayed to you my delight as a weight obsessive in being told that I was “looking good” by a portly and bearded associate – a man whose beard is a bit reminiscent of that of Mr Twit (Roald Dahl) although without the various bits of food entangled in it. But today comes an unprompted comment from a woman who is, without doubt, the most attractive woman in corporate broking in London and she says that I am “looking good” too.

No offense to my portly bearded friend but being complemented by a goddess trumps your complement and motivates me, in a way that only a formerly fat weight obsessive can be motivated, to go for a run through the streets of Athens to shed a few more pounds. Since it is 45 degrees out there I will probably get as far as the street corner before collapsing but on the back of such praise, and feeling a bit guilty about having an extra glass of white wine last night, I have no choice. My next article is postponed for a while.