Could I go a whole day of telling the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth?
Yeah no problem.
Oops, I've blown it already.
If we never told any lies we'd struggle to hold down a job - in fact we'd never make it past the interview - we'd have no friends and families would be at war.
Would I tell my neighbour that I stopped going to the gym with her because she reeks of BO?
Could I break it to my cousin that when I said his newborn son was the cutest I'd ever seen, I was lying? And that in fact he'd be lucky to come last in a beautiful baby competition? Definitely not.
It is becoming increasingly acceptable to mislead and distort and I think it's time for those of us who feel strongly about truth to take a stand on this.
So I've made it my mission to not tell any porkies all day.
I wake up with a hangover and can just about stagger out of bed and on to the sofa. There's no way I'll make it to work. But this is no time for calling my boss and faking the flu. Taking a deep breath, I ring to tell her I'll be late.
"Are the trains up the spout?" she asks.
"Nope," I say. "I just can't be bothered getting up yet and can only face GMTV right now."
She shrieks, I think, because she's impressed and refreshed by my honesty... but then warns if I'm not at my desk in an hour I can spend every day watching Morning Television.
But before I struggle in there's Christmas thank-you letters to sort out. I write a quick note to tell my aunt to tell her that the knock-off perfume she gave me made me nauseous and will not wear it again.
And I've got a confession to make to my other half, too. Before she leaves for work I tell her I didn't get her that Casino Royale DVD for Christmas because she's such a huge James Bond fan.
No, I got it because I wanted to freeze-frame Daniel Craig in his trunks whenever he's out. (It's at 29mins 25secs in case you're interested.)
"I guessed as much," she says. "I've found the disc in the machine three times since Christmas - and I hadn't even taken the cellophane off it."
Walking to work, I pass my chirpy postman.
"Excuse me," I say as he cycles past. "You have a lovely smile - and your bum looks great on your bike."
Whoever said "truth hurts" should have seen the massive grin which was stretching right across his face. "Thanks love," he beams. "That's the nicest thing anyone's said to me for ages!"
I'm getting the hang of this. On the train a man shoves his paper into my face. Normally I'd suffer in silence. Not today.
"Can you shift your paper, mate?" I snap.
He looks like I've just spat in his coffee and gets up to sit somewhere else. Result.
At the office, my boss doesn't look too pleased to see me.
"Did you finish that story I asked you to write yesterday?" she asks.
"No," I reply. "I spent the day looking at stuff online."
This might get dangerous. An email from a friend pops into my inbox. He had a New Year snog with my friend and wants to know if she's said anything about him since.
"Yes," I type. "She said you had halitosis, wouldn't fancy you in a million years and only snogged you because she was blind drunk.
"Best off sticking to women in your own league." His reply consists of two words, and they weren't "thank you".
At lunchtime I have wine with my meal. Usually I tell the waiter I love it even before it hits my lips. But I feel braver today. "That's minging," I announce.
And I'm just as courageous at the coffee shop.
"Your hot chocolate is so cold it's like chocolate milkshake," I tell the assistant. He looks confused - maybe he can't understand my african accent.
Somehow I make it to the end of the day. My boss asks for a quiet word before I go. It's probably to thank me for making such a monumental effort to come in this morning.
"You obviously took National Tell The Truth day very seriously," she says. "And so do I. Your dress? It's so not you."
Ouch! Maybe they were right after all - because that really did hurt.
- Geoffrey T. Muhoozi is a Ugandan trained Public Relations Practitioner and Journalist. He Studied at Makerere University Kampala and read Mass Communication with a bias in Public Relations. In between the course, he studied the Art of Public Speaking. He joined Uganda’s Leading Daily, The New Vision during his second year and practiced journalism till he left for The United Kingdom.In the UK, he persued an NCC International Diploma in Computing at London College of Business Studies and Computing. He went on to do a Masters Degree in Business Administration [MBA]specialsing in Marketing. In spite of being in The United Kingdom, he still contributes for The New Vision and The Sunday Vision newspapers when time allows.