Odds 'n Ends

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First things first, let's get this out of the way:


Other news:

- Think I'm getting sick.
Yay. Sore throat snuck up on me yesterday... I blame BJ - he's been sick for, oh, the past 3 years or so - but don't worry because it's only "allergies"... yeah, right. Loaded up on Vitamin C, Zinc, Selenium, Vitamin A, Airborne, and pomegranate juice... hopefully it'll help ward-off any nasties.

- Nudity at the gym.
I joined the Fayetteville Boys & Girls Club a few weeks ago so that I could swim during my lunch hour. It's a great facility - the pool is wonderful and there's never anyone there besides me and a couple of 70+ year old ladies... we all swim laps together. However, on two separate occasions, I've walked into the men's locker room and have been greeted by fully nude, mid-40's, overweight and balding men who are a little too "proud" of their bodies.

I can't, for the life of me, figure out why some people are so happy to be naked. One guy had an entire conversation on his cell phone while nude, then came over to tell me about it (still nude). I scurried away as quickly as possible.

Yesterday, there was a guy that came out to swim with us... minuscule swimming suit, swim cap, goggles - and the whole works themed by the American flag - I've got news for you, pal - you're not Michael Phelps... He walks past everyone, goes to the deepest end of the pool and proceeds to belly flop into the water (he was trying to dive). Then he swims a few laps, breathing and panting like a mad man, stopping at the end of each lap to let out a "whew!" or a huge gasping sigh. The lifeguard is staring at the guy - thinking (no doubt) that he's likely going to have to jump in and save this joker at some point.

The guy, who looks to be in his mid-40's, has a wonderful beer belly and a sweateresque back (read: lots of back hair), swims maybe 2-3 more lengths, then gets out of the pool and struts back into the locker room. I continue to swim for another 20 minutes or so, get out of the pool, and head for the locker room.

Who do you think is standing in front of the mirror, fully nude, with a full bathroom's worth of hygiene products spread out on the counter? Yep, Mr. Flag. He's shaving, he's brushing his teeth, he's trimming his ear hair, he's got gels and lotion, and a bottle of Old Spice. Seriously. And he's just standing there, naked, tending to his grooming as though he's alone in his home bathroom. I just don't get it.

I took a fast (1 minute) shower, changed and fled as quickly as possible. I realize I fall a bit toward the other end of the "proud" factor - I hate being without clothing unless it's absolutely unnecessary, but holy cow - some people are ridiculous.

I really do need a camera crew to follow me around full time. I could profit from all of these "adventures."

And finally, if one more person bothers me while I'm trying to type this entry, I'm going to snap. I have my door closed, my lights are off, and there's a huge sign on my door that reads, "CALL THE HELP DESK." Yet, everyone has to poke their head in and say something like, "I know I should call the Help Desk, but..." or, "I was just wondering if you could take a quick look at this for me..." Ugh. I really need to take up heavy drinking - this job is making me crazy. I hate every second of it.

Here's me at my desk today... I'd really rather be tortured by more humane methods - something like waterboarding, perhaps.


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