Every morning, I pour myself a cup of coffee and head over to my computer where I spend the next several hours writing.  This means the only physical activity I get all morning is if I happen to yawn enthusiastically, sneeze vivaciously or gargle with chutzpah, –(sometimes gargling coffee helps me think).

And yet, all this extra added exercise doesn’t seem to be making much difference to Mr. Bathroom Scales — whose numbers I find are slowing creeping up faster than a Tiger Woods’ round of golf.

Which means I should probably exercise more.  But while exercise is all well and good, frankly, I think it would be far easier to keep weight off by changing the laws of physics.

Why not  simply build a time machine, go back in time and talk the person who invented the bathroom scales out of it?  Or better yet, maybe I ought to travel back in time and have a little confab with Sir Isaac Newton– what with him being so keen on discovering gravity and all.

I imagine the conversation would go something like this:

Hey Isaac, you don’t know me, I’m a blogger from the future who’s starting to put on weight from sitting at my computer all morning.

What are you doing in my hamlet and; more precisely, what are you doing in my house?

I’ve come to talk you out of inventing gravity.

But I’m working on the Binomial Theorem whilst developing Infinitesimal Calculus.  What is this thing “gravity” you speak of?

YES!  I’m assuming that means you haven’t already discovered it then, phew! Well, please don’t because it makes the rest of us in the future weigh too much and— hey wait a minute!  Where’d you get that apple?

This apple?  It fell on my head whilst I was outside just now and– . . .  Holy Black Plague!  I just figured out why!

Please tell me you’re thinking something along the lines of  a coincidence?

No, no twasn’t a coincidence!   Me thinks it twas due to an heretofore undiscovered force I shall now christen gravy.

You mean gravity?

Ooh that’s better!  I shall now christen gravity. 

Hmmm . . . well obviously this little thought experiment of mine has shown me that building a time machine may not be the answer to weight loss, because the only thing it has succeeded in doing is making me hungry for Fig Newtons.

I’m afraid I’m going to have to cut this post short, Dear Reader, so that I can rustle up some Fig Newtons. 

I plan to chew them vigorously while watching television briskly in an attempt to make negate excess calories.

If I am unable to do so, however, the person who invented the calorie is going to be receiving a little visit from moi.

Until next time . . . I love you, Fig Newtons and Sir Isaac in that order.