Photo by Rachel Ford James / CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

Oh hai. *cough* What’s that? *hack* You can’t hear me over all the coughing? *lung expulsion* Well it’s no picnic on this end either. (TWSS) I don’t know if it’s all the cottonwood fluff floating around or what but I’ve been coughing since last Friday and my exhalations sounds like a coffeemaker’s wheezy sputtering. I haven’t used my inhaler this much since I had pneumonia in college. I’ve tried over-the-counter everything so I just made an appointment with my doctor. In the meantime, being near me is like hanging out in a tuberculosis ward.

The gym continues to be a constant source of entertainment. Last night, a nasty storm forced us to evacuate the outdoor pool so we went to the indoor pool instead. After about a half-an-hour, the power went off with a frightening THUNK. It was a little freaky but also sparked my inner trouble-maker. I had an overwhelming compulsion to do something naughty so I started checking random closet doors to see if they were unlocked. I didn’t have a plan for what I’d do if one was and it’s not like I would’ve discovered something crazy like an army of life-size Gummi Bears (sorry, I just watched the California Gurls video) but I couldn’t resist the urge to try. In the end, I couldn’t think of anything clandestine or exciting but am open to ideas for the next outage.

The upside of a gym black-out is the merciful cessation of my overdrive OCD tendencies. You see, being in a locker room is very stressful for me. There’s something about the combination of rogue hair and wet floors that makes my skin crawl. In fact, I sometimes have nightmares about having to walk barefoot across a wet, hairy shower floor with gnarly, fetid, standing water and OHMYGOD, just typing this is killing me! And don’t forget the random dirty underwear left on top of the lockers, stray trails of used toilet paper, and the weird crustacean-like booger on the soap dispenser in shower stall 2. But when the lights were out, I couldn’t see a thing and therefore didn’t spend the entire time tense and agonizing, afraid of catching 10 different strains of cooties. It was so wonderful to shower and dress in the damp darkness, completely unaware of the cesspool below. Sadly I’m sure the power has been restored but I’ll always remember the fleeting day my neurosis was kept at bay.

P.S. Really the locker room at the gym I’ve been going to is relatively clean. I’m making it sound terrible because I have a thing but overall, it’s not a horrible place to change.

P.P.S. What is with boys wearing underwear under their swim trunks? Also, Guy in the Purple Speedo? COME ON!!


7 Responses to “ca-COUGH-ony”

  1. Amy Says:

    Ewwww, I feel the same! We had a gym at work that was super duper clean because it was only two years old and no one used it, and even with flipflops I STILL got that stupid toenail fungus with that Digger guy on the commercials. Good news! That medicine is now generic and a few months later, I can admit to my fungus because my nail is growing out all normal 🙂

    • mymsie Says:

      That guy is freaky as hell, the way he opens up the toenail like the hood of a car! *shudder skeevy oogy x 1,000,000*

    • mymsie Says:

      P.S. In a show of camaraderie, I’ll share that I got a plantar wart from a gym at IU. As you can imagine, I was HYPER-CAREFUL about always wearing flip flops but it didn’t matter. Oh God, it was awful. The doctor tried to burn it, freeze it, and nothing worked – it was The Wart From Hell! Finally he had to cut a big chunk out of my hoof to get rid of it. When I see people walking around barefoot in locker rooms, I can hardly stand it.

  2. A-frame Says:

    This is exactly why I’m skeeved out by community yoga mats in yoga centers! Flipflops ain’t exactly an option in a yoga class. Then when a teacher directs the class to “lie face down on the mat,” well, I cry a little inside and throw up a little in my mouth. Using my own mat helps; I am more at home with my own funk than the funk of others. But then someone mindless of boundaries goes and steps all over my mat. *sigh* Time to practice detatchment.

  3. westwardbound Says:

    HA! You describe the YMCA locker room of my youth to a T.

    Pitter wore his underwear under his bathing suit when he dressed himself for his swimming lesson on Tuesday. (I discovered this after the fact.) But he’s 3.

  4. Amy Says:

    Hey, does your gym have that swimsuit squeezer? That was my favorite part of the locker room at the Y when I was a kid. You could turn the crank and run it through the ridged rollers to get most of the water out! It was probably 40 years old back then, though…

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