Yes, I’m now a member of the Inner Circle.

Granted it’s a club no one ever wants to be a member of, but being in the Circle has it’s advantages.

I first discovered this on Tuesday. It was my Blood Test and Consultation day. I made my way through the miles of corridors in the hospital and was out of breath when I reached Reception. Without my saying a word, the wee lass on reception looks up – “Howya” says she, “I have you booked in”. I suppose I do have a somewhat memorable face? I sat down in the waiting area and in the course of the mandatory hour wait [actually it was a bit longer] I was greeted by a couple of nurses, my psychiatrist [they leave nothing to chance] and a consultant. They all know me now. I have arrived!

Wednesday was the same. I was placed in a nice quiet corner while they dripped various crap into me and again more specialists [another consultant and my personal dietician]. Word just seemed to spread that Grandad Has Arrived. I’m even getting chatty with some of the other regulars.

Their main concern this week seemed to be my weight. In the last couple of months my weight has dropped by a quarter with no signs of a slowdown. If I could bottle my secret I’d be up there with Musk [financially, not in any other way].

So I am now on a diet.

If it’s unhealthy, go for it. Anything that mentions Slim or Diet is to be avoided like the plague. Lots and lots of gunk. I laid in a stash of brownies yesterday from the coffee shop – slabs of chocolate that sink like a brick to the stomach and are delicious. Eat, eat, eat.

I’m back there again this afternoon.

It’s no fucking wonder everyone now knows me.