Friday, March 06, 2009


I've mentioned here more than once about having self-diagnosed OCD. It isn't really as much about washing things over and over as it is about repetition and well....repetition.

Going to the gym is just as ritualistic for me as any other task. How I pack my bag, as to how I unpack it and put stuff in the locker. I want it so when I come out of the shower, the clean undies, t-shirt and socks are right there for me. My keys, wallet, ID and iPhone are in a certain place - as is my tie after I get my suit on.

So maybe it is the change in my morning routine that has me all bamboozled. I am used to getting up early, but not really doing a thing except reading the paper - and having the same cereal every single morning. Repetition.

But for the last four weeks, two days a week, I am at the gym by 06:00. In the last two weeks, I've either left my wallet at home, or forgotten a change of underwear. This is unlike me.

Yesterday was 'abs day'. I still do my cardio and upper body stuff, but I've been incorporating abdominal routines into the workout. I am so gonna be a looker.

My gym is right across the street from an entrance to my workplace. In the side pocket of my gym bag, I keep my wallet and my ring. I know I shouldn't take my ring off, but I hate wearing it while using the weights and machines.

In the lobby of the building is one of those big kinetic sculptures - the kind with the like eight balls that drop, spin, go down windy slides and make all kinds of noise. It sounds like this doesn't matter, but trust me, it will.

I stop in the cafeteria to pick up a little box of raisin bran and head to my office to eat it. Up there, I realize I didn't put on my precious. I dig into my gym bag and there was nothing there. I call the gym to have them check the locker room, but they found nothing.

It was then I remember digging into my gym bag to get my wallet for the damned box of raisin bran. It was then I remember hearing a dinging noise near the kinetic sculpture....a dinging noise that was not from the sculpture.

I flew down seven flights of stairs and over two buildings, but for nothing. I looked and I looked but it is hard to see silver on a white terrazzo floor. Oh, and that a few hundred people were coming into work and had a few hundred opportunities to kick it across a lobby.


I was sick about it.

I called security, but really did not think anything would come of that. In these economic hard times, it would not have surprised me that someone found it and would hawk it for a 32 oz bottle of malt liquor.....or rent. Whichever.

I did try to call Denton to tell him, but the man never picks up his cell. Ruckiry (not Jon's boss), an hour later, security called - they had it! An hour after that, I went down between meetings to get it.

They gave me the name of the guy who turned it in, so now I guess I owe him. My "friends" had some crass ideas of how I should repay him. Kris is hoping he'll be 25 and hot. I am hoping for 35.

Morty's idea of Starbucks gift card was the only legitimate one....and a good one at that. I think I'll up it 10x more than the $2 Mort suggested.

And it seems I will have a new ritual. Working out with my ring firmly in place.

Song by: Sarah McLachlan


Anonymous said...

I've heard, from people who actually lift things at the gym, that the bars and equipment can scratch rings. Maybe try those sporty leather gloves for weightlifting.

And wear BOTH of them Ms. Jackson!

Blobby said...

One reason I didn't wear the ring. ...and I'm only called Ms. Jackson if I'm nasty.......oh....wait.....