A lifetime of office work has rendered body (and also my soul to some extent) a pathetic shadow of its supple, youthful self. According to my physio therapist, I am “a gnarled, tangled, knotted, inflexible mess that shouldn’t be permitted to be seen in public for fear of sending a bad message to children”. Although, she did say it with a huge smile and what appeared to be dollar signs over her eyes. Apparently I am less flexible than rigamortis with hamstrings tighter than piano wire and perma-claws for wrists that makes me look like I’m constantly doing the Austin Powers “grrr, whose a tiger, baby, whose a tiger” motion. She asked me to touch my toes and then proceeded to laugh so hard that snot shot out her nose. She called in 3 colleagues to witness my cant-even-reach-his-knees-let-alone-his-toes, two of whom started filming with their iPhones (compounding my shame, given that, as you know, I am an Andoid guy) while the third just stood and tut tutted over over. You know, “tut, tut. tut, tut. tut, tut. tut, tut. etc.” He threw in a couple of “tsk tsks” for good measure. I’m trying to see the positive in all of this though… so I’ve purchased a couple of costumes and am starting a side business as an Austin Powers impersonator. Yeah baby!