Since the company that now employs me is a major health insurance provider, I sense a constant, sort of nagging emphasis on good health. You know, green tea in the break room, sunflower seeds and trail mix in the vending machine. That sort of stuff.

Thank God they also believe in coffee. Quality coffee. Where at my last job we all pitched in money to buy massive containers of Folger's, here, Starbucks and Seattle's Best flows from super-heated coffee pots 24/7. This, to me, is a benefit in itself.

Bu they don't stop there. As you might guess, the health insurance benefits are darn good. They can get even better if you prove to the company that you are hale and hearty.

The offer is thus: If you ace a health questionnaire, you get a $114-a-year discount on your total benefits.

This afternoon, I took that test. I was confident that I would get the full benefit, particularly since I planned to tweak the facts a touch to get it. In this case, honesty doesn’t pay.

So I lied. Just a wee bit. About just a few things.

“How often do you consume alcohol?” the computer asked.

Since weekends are not on company time, we all know they don’t count. I searched among the choices for the correct weekday response, which would have read: “Once daily, as a bedtime chaser to one prescription and two herbal sleeping pills.”

It wasn’t there. There also was no space for write-in responses. All I could do, then, was mark the space that came closest to the truth: “Never.”

Really, bad sleep = bad employee, so my habit is more of a boon for the company than anything else. Right?

I moved on.

“How many servings of fruits do you eat a day?”

I thought. There were two in my morning banana/frozen raspberries/peanut butter/ice cream smoothie. And then, nothing for the rest of the day. They were big bananas, however, and I was generous with the frozen fruit. (And the sugar, when the ice cream ran out.)

That added up to … “Five!”

“Vegetables?”

Usually, I had some kind of vegetable with dinner. And often white rice, which counted, of course, since it comes from a plant. As does coffee, now that I think about it.

I wasn’t sure what the best answer would be. Would six make me seem excessive? A little too granola? Perhaps a low-producing employee because of all that wasted bathroom time?

Whatever. More had to be better. “Six!”

By this time, I was on a roll, spinning out of control in my increasingly sticky web of health-related lies. And in the back of my mind, always – the money. Why, $114 a year added up to $4.38 a pay period. The things I could do! The new kinds of wine I could try! I was getting might thirsty at the very idea, which was to be expected since it was 5 o'clock somewhere.

“Moderate exercise each week, at least 30 minutes a day?”

Since I walked the dog daily for 5 or 10 minutes each morning and evening, this was a no-brainer. And not really even a lie. I checked the maximum number.

Vigorous exercise weekly? At least 30 minutes a day?

Sometimes, I suddenly recalled, we had to run from other dogs, which Ally would otherwise attack. Such moments always produced a rush of adrenalin. Besides which, I lived on the third floor. Not to mention all the daily heart pounding involved in maneuvering through city traffic. Don't tell me that's not vigorous!

“Four!”

Stretching, i.e. yoga, Pilates? How many times weekly?

Yoga was something I actually did. And the classes were one hour and 15 minutes long! Surely longer than most, (although in truth, I've never attended a class any shorter than an hour). Which meant two classes a week equaled … Five!

"Do you pull over to take cell phone calls?"

Sheesh, doesn't everyone??

Do you suffer from depression? "No." Was it my fault they didn't ask about manic depression?

I was in the home stretch now. The last question?

“How much do you weigh?”

This was my ace in the hole. For the last couple of years, I’d weighed less than at any time in my life (except for right after that whole nervous breakdown thing; and I can't say that was a particularly flattering look). In fact, people here and there urged me to gain a few pounds.

I plugged the final numbers in and waited for the results.

They came back in seconds.

I looked at my risk factors.

Diet: Low
Alcohol consumption: Low
Fitness: Low

On and on, down and down the list. Until: “Weight: Moderate.”

Underneath, in red letters, was written: “Click here for more information.”

I clicked.

“Did you know being underweight can lead to weakness and fatigue? Poor concentration? Scabies?”

OK, so maybe it didn’t say scabies. I couldn’t really concentrate on the horse pucky I was reading.

“Your discount is $104. To learn more on the ill effects of low weight, and get heart-healthy tips, visit these links.”

I felt angry, disappointed and lighter in the wallet already. I had to recalculate my biweekly take. But that would have to come later. Because I was tired. So very tired. And sort of weak. The test really had taken it out of me.

I closed the computer, closed my eyes, closed my ears to the sound of my growling stomach and took a nap.