Blood Sucking Vampire Tech with Fangs

I got a new blood glucose monitor yesterday. If you are unaware of what a blood glucose monitor is, allow me to introduce you. Picture a pager that bites you and draws blood. You are then supposed to lovingly feed your blood to it after which it will tell you your blood sugar is too high and you need to lay off the M&Ms. It's a charming device all the way around, if you are into blood sucking vampire tech with fangs.

Personally I see it as a violation of my self. Not only does it hurt me, it analyzes me. It's like a robot that pulls up to me in a car, rolls down the window, and says "Hey kid, you want me to take your candy away? Ya fatty! Hahahaha!" My wife tried to encourage me to use it today and I spent an hour in the closet hugging my knees muttering "Stranger danger! Stranger danger!"

I understand the need to monitor my blood sugar levels. In a Star Trek sort of way, like where Bones puts a groovy 60s thingamabob to your arm and a soft pleasant whoosh noise happens and cures everything. Then I get a lollipop from Yeoman Rand. That's what I understand. This device is not that. This device is a tricorder from Hell. I can see a horde of them swarming Klingons, biting them and chirping "Your pepto bismal blood registers a blood glucose level of 175 you candy eating alien misfit!" That's what this device is all about.

It is currently sitting on the counter in my bathroom in a blood red lunch bag with a cheerful diabetes logo on it. I can feel it watching me, waiting to bite me and suck my blood. I suppose I will go use it after lunch. Maybe. Probably. Most likely. Maybe after dinner.