The Joys of the Gym

One of the many things I enjoy about working for GE is the benefit of their nearby gym.  At $15/month, the facility and equipment aren't anywhere near as impressive as Gold's or LA Fitness, but they have all the equipment I need, they're rarely crowded in the mornings (I try to get there around 6:30am), and the building is less than a mile from my desk.

Like any gym, there is a wide variety of people you’ll see there, but lately I've been finding myself observing the oddities of humanity more than usual.  This provide a mixture of amusement, amazement, annoyance, and sometimes disgust.  Some examples of the things I've seen recently are:

• I typically go to the same locker area, mostly out of habit.  But if my usual area of the locker room happens to be crowded, or even if there are just one or two guys in the vicinity, I’ll shift to a different one.  Most of the lockers are empty in the morning anyway, so there are hundreds of options to choose from.  Similar to the shower though, it still surprises me when a man walks in a virtually empty and spacious locker room, then just has to go to his usual locker, which is right next to or just across from mine.
  
• My work out partner actually found toe nail clippings on the floor in front of the lockers.  What kind of man would think that this is acceptable behavior?  If I were to see someone in the act of doing this, I would have a really hard time not saying something to him.
  
• Sure, aftershaves and/or body sprays often provide decent aromas, but when the entire locker room is gagging from the overpowering stench, how can you not tell that you've used too much?  I mean, how can someone’s sense of smell be that bad, that they would need to use an entire bottle in order to tell that it’s enough for one day?  I feel bad for anyone who is working next to him, or even in the same building.

After using the gym in the morning, I always take a shower before heading to work.  That’s provided some interesting fodder as well, including:

• There are 18 separate enclosed shower stalls (w/a curtain as the door).  Since a lot fewer people go to the gym in the morning than any other time of day, there aren't too many stalls being occupied when I shower (2-3 at a time maybe).  Why then, when I’m taking a shower, must a man pick the stall directly next to mine?  This may sound a little extreme, but it kinda grosses me out to know that some guy’s shower water could be running down his naked body then splashing on me from under the gap at the bottom of the partition.  If enough shower stalls are available, then can’t you just leave a gap between us?
  
• I have seasonal allergies (for a week or two each in the fall and spring), so I know how it can be when your nose and/or lungs are struggling with the blockage that sometimes accompanies these times of year.  I also know how working out can help clear some of this blockage (force the cardiovascular system to expand and open up).  But do you have to spit your cleared blockages on the shower floor?
  
• My co-worker/workout partner Chris noticed some of the shower stalls have boogers smeared on the walls.
  
• I once found a used band-aid in the shower’s soap dish.  Luckily I didn't see any blood or puss on it, but even still…
  
• There is an odd looking man with very fair skin and gray hair.  He’s tall and slightly overweight, (but not obese).  He has a nasally voice and does not look like he has a single hair on his face or his entire body.  How do I know this?  Because he often stands in the locker room air drying for an extended period of time.  Sometimes he shakes his hips with his towel waving in the air behind him, like he’s trying to dry his backside.  But he’s not really trying to dry off – it’s just a sickening show.  I thought to myself “am I being too judgmental?”  But I asked my workout partner about it, and he laughed and exclaimed “Yeah, of course I noticed, and I hate that!”
  
  A few weeks ago when I got out of the shower he was doing his usual thing in the locker room aisle, but this time he was standing on one foot and had the other one propped up on the front of a standing fan, so that the fan can blow on his little pink, bald junk.  I couldn't take it anymore and said “Come on!  Really?!”  He looked over at me.  “Do you really have to prop your foot up and dry your balls off in front of everyone?”  He stepped down and responded guiltily “I’m um, drying my toes.  Have you ever had athletes foot?”  “Yeah, I have.”  I replied, calling his bluff.
  
  I didn't see him in the locker room for a number of weeks after that.  I wasn't trying to be a bully, but blatantly airing your manhood for way more time than necessary is just gross and inconsiderate of everyone else around you.

New Couch Decor Too!

Emily threw up again today (Thursday). It happened right before I got home from work. This time it was all over the couch and living room though. Since Clara was still at the dinner table and the barf was quickly soaking into the cushions, I dropped my wallet and keys on the counter and got to work cleaning them up. Another day, another stinky puke mess to clean. Sigh.

New Bathroom Decor

It was Monday evening and Emily had been complaining about her stomach hurting. She is a very slow and minimal eater though, especially for dinner. She has a habit of not only filling her belly up on her cup of milk, but making excuses for why she cannot eat the rest of her food. "I'm cold" (it's 78 degrees in the house). "I'm full" (she only had one bite and will complain about being hungry in another hour). "my boo boo hurts" (it's a 3-day old scratch). ""I have to go potty" (then she reads three books over the course of an hour and only pees). "I don't like this food" (what's not to like about spinach and asparagus souffle with limburger cheese and liver?).

So her complaint was mostly ignored, although we let her sit on the couch for a while. When she said she felt better, I let her come back to the table and encouraged her to eat more. As per our usual routine, I tried to persuade her by offering dessert after a certain goal was met. Well, time ran out and she didn't reach her goal, so I didn't give her dessert. And in hindsight it was certainly for the best.

Amanda had already left to attend a Beth Moore Bible study with other women at church. The kitchen was a mess too, and I had just finished getting Clara down from the table. I had given her a small piece of chocolate cake, which she had eaten hand to mouth (still working on the fork skills). Needless to say, there were cake crumbs all over the kitchen and probably in three adjacent rooms besides. By now it was getting late and the kids still needed to get a bath before going to bed.

I was just finishing cleaning Clara's mess when Emily ran past me and into the bathroom. "I throwed up!" echoed from around the corner of the doorway. "Well, at least she made it to the bathroom" I thought "which means it should mostly be in the toilet, right?" Well, maybe not in the toilet.

How about on, and around, and in the books, and on the carpets, and cabinets, as you can see in the above picture (yes, I took a picture). Emily was sweet in trying to help, but to do so she grabbed a clean towel from the wall-mounted rack and threw it over the puke, hence adding another casualty to the carnage.

After cleaning up the mess and starting a load of laundry, I bathed the kids and got them to bed. It was an hour later than usual, but the end of the evening was never more welcomed.