Teamwork

My inner slug is trying to kill me. I have evidence.
I'm pretty sure it's a conspiracy.

It has teamed up with my boss:

If you give her more to do and make her work late,
she won't want to exercise when she gets home.

It has talked to the cat:

Climb into her lap and purr loudly. She'll sit
there long after she's watched the news.

And the dog:

Don't jump all over her and slobber in her face at the crack
of dawn. Let her sleep late, she'll be sluggish all day.

It has spoken convincingly to people who have my phone number:

One of you call her every night. Talk for hours at a time.
Don't let her hang up and get on that treadmill.

It has even communicated with those who have my email address:

Send her 50 emails every day. By the time she reads them all
she'll be too tired to exercise. Plus she'll have a headache.

My inner slug does not seem to understand that ours is a symbiotic relationship. I go down, it's going down with me.

Symbi-what? Any of you got a dictionary?

Yeah. It has been a tough week. But I just took my inner slug for a half-mile walk and it is feeling pretty subdued at the moment. That won't last. It tries to contact you with suggestions for thwarting my resolve to exercise, just ignore it.