Should I File A Report?

HELP! Police! I've been robbed. What should I do?! Should I file a report?

There is something missing in my house. I'm sure that someone has been in here. HELP!

Okay, take deep breaths. Walk through the house slowly and purposefully. Pay attention, take note. Yes, I am certain. Things are missing. The culprit has gone through my closet and taken my clothes! No, not all of them, only the ones that fit me! What is going on here? There isn't one single thing here that fits me! Who would do such a thing?!

And that's not all. Someone has messed with my bathroom scale. It's stuck on this awful number that is 30 or 40 pounds more than I weigh! This is just crazy. It's some kind of conspiracy...to make me think I'm going nuts! I can't sleep for thinking about it. I'll make an appointment with my doctor to get something to help me sleep.

A FEW DAYS LATER

So, I went to see my doctor. You won't believe this...there's something wrong with her scale, too! She says my anxiety may be hormonal. After all, I am going to be sixty next year. She couldn't explain what happened to my clothes, but she did think that maybe if I were to lose a few pounds, it would take my mind off the whole matter. She advised that I not involve the authorities just yet. Well, she's the professional, so I agreed to try really hard to lose just a pound or two...you know, so I can sleep better.

She gave me all kinds of little charts to figure out the whole process. For example, did you know that to 'lose' a pound of fat, you must burn an additional 500 calories a week. Okay, that sounds easy enough. Then there is a little chart to show which activities you can choose from to burn your extra calories. The most popular choice is walking. I walk around all day; that should be easy! Oh...it has to be 'extra' walking. Well, maybe I'll choose something else. Anyway, I'm afraid of the big dogs that chase people who are doing nothing but walking past.

So, what's next on the list? Ride a bicycle. OK. Now, that's what I'm talking about! I'll ride a bike to burn up those mean little fat cells. I'm mad at them anyway. They probably know who has my clothes! Okay, let's see what the little chart has to say about bicycling. I can feel the wind on my face already. And I could most likely pedal faster than the mean dogs. This may be the ticket!

Hmm, must be outdoor bicycling, but not racing...uh-huh...traveling about eight miles per hour...that sounds reasonable...it will only take twelve hours to burn one pound of solid fat. TWELVE HOURS?!  What?!!!
So, let me get this straight. If I jump on the bicycle and pedal at a speed of eight miles per hour, and ride for twelve hours, I'll lose one pound...that's it?!

That means that if I want to lose ten pounds, I'll need to pedal for 120 hours...hold on a second...let me do the math...WHAT?! that's 5 days...24/7. So, in order to lose ten pounds in one week, I would need to pedal continuously for five days, a total of one hundred twenty hours! Maybe I'm not doing this right. Let's look at the mileage instead. Okay, let's see here...just a moment...more math...eight miles per hour times twelve hours...that equals ninety-six miles to burn one pound. NINETY-SIX miles?!!!! That's nine hundred sixty miles to lose ten pounds. That's insane!

I think I'll have the doctor write me a referral. There must be another way. All this math is just causing me more anxiety.

Hold on just a minute...it's my doctor, returning my call...oh, good...she's going to write a referral.
I'll be right back...I hear the fax machine. Let's see...yep! It's from my doctor. What's this?!
"Alterations Are Us" ... a referral to her seamstress?!!!! 

Hello, Police? I want to file a report...