For the sake of my sanity, I recently joined the gym in the same complex as my job. It gives me the opportunity to recharge mid-day, saves me time in the evening (so I can get right to the eating), and most importantly it gets me the hell out of the office. It turns out that if you take your lunch at your desk in your office with the door closed at the same time every day, people assume that because you are , well, right there, they can just borrow a minute of your lunch time to talk about work.
No more talking about work on my lunch break. No more being at work on my lunch break. No more work on my break. That’s Me Time. And today I used that Me Time to watch Rikki Lake talk about bikini waxing, peppered with some occasional commentary from CNN on the presidential race. But let’s be real, I watched more Rikki Lake than CNN today. Because it’s my Me Time and I don’t have to think if I don’t want to.
There was a part of my lunch however, that was quite perplexing. The shower.
That’s a soap dispenser in the shower. There’s one in every shower.
What is it?
Is it face wash?
Make up remover?
2-in-1 shampoo AND conditioner?
3-in-1 shampoo/conditioner/body wash?
What are the ingredients?
What does it smell like?
Does it have sulfates?
Is it tested on animals?
Why isn’t there One.Single.Label on this thing?
Listen here Gym, I may be excited about your fees but you had better believe that there’s no way in hell I’m going to use your unmarked goo during my shower in a gym that costs a mere $9.99 a month (and no contract!). I respect you, Gym, but dammit I just don’t trust you.