On a regular basis, you can find a handful of nourishment minded employees in the kitchen. Lunch provides an hour to spend talking, forgetting about work, and perhaps playing a game of Uno. Today the lunchketeers, consisting of several OCD riddled co-workers, shared all.
Being one of the OCD stricken, I actually found comfort in not sharing as the office manager talked about unplugging curling irons and obsessive cleaning habits. She was one-upped by tales of multiple return trips home to make sure the garage door had properly shut. Then a spread-sheet happy clothes whore one upped that.
I wear the same clothes a lot and find only a single week is needed to cycle through my "outfits." Partially because I only have a few things that fit tubby me, and partially because I have better things to do with my money, like squirrel it away so I can buy nice clothes when I'm sixty-five.
Not only did this OCD participant have too much to wear, but his clothes made a full rotation before being revisited. Two months weere needed to cycle through his closet. To encourage his plan, he kept records of what was worn, in what combination, and on what date. As tedious as that is, it produces a desirable outcome for the fashionable.
The one upping continued when the next OCD participant shared her fears of becoming fat. To remain slim she eats well balanced meals, exercises daily, and avoids stepping into shadows; If she ever finds herself engulfed in an overweight shadow she quickly side steps, exhales, and holds her breath to prevent a transfer of fat to her body. Perhaps everyone found comfort in sharing, knowing they weren't alone, but this last eccentricity raised the bar so high that no one spoke of peculiar habits for the remainder of the lunch.
I've been jogging for two weeks now. I've increased the length of my sweaty morning jogs to two miles. I've stopped eating late night snacks, and my meal portions are under control. While all of this hard work will eventually result in a thinner version of me, I'm considering an all together new routine that involves casting my shadow on co-workers.
5 comments:
You're supposed to pretend that Uno has never been played again since I've left. You know, the world stops, etc. Thanks.
shadows cause fatness?
this is news.
it will take me a while to process this new information.
Does holding your breath prevent you from breathing in the fat? My grandma would always tell me to hold my breath when passing a cemetary to keep from breathing in the evil spirits (which of course would make me take deep breaths just to spite her), but this is a new one to me. I'll have to try it:)
Holy shit. There's OCD and then there's just plain ol' crazy. I think the shadow game falls under that.
tom, re: my comment - if you remember, it's what star boy says when he finds out that the captain of outer space is his brother. (home movies -- one of the few things i can put in a DVD for and watch indefinitely and not get sick of it).
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