Gym Germs

I found this in the editing section of my Blogger.  Written on March 1st, but never published.  It made me laugh, as I'm sure it didn't that day.  So I'm publishing now.  Enjoy my craziness...

I left work early today.  Not really, I had a meeting.  But I got done with my meeting earlier than I would have gotten off work.  BONUS!  So, I took my happily free self to the gym to celebrate. 
In case you haven't caught on already, I live in a very routined world.  On Mondays (as that is today), I usually go to a class at the gym from 5:45 until 6:45.  In all honesty, it's more like 5:55, after I frustrate myself thru traffic.  Either way, this class is awesome!  It uses weights and aerobics to get the job done.  It is a total ass-kicker, but man, it feels good.  Today, I didn't go to that class, I didn't get to grunt my way through a techno-version of 9-5 by Ms. Dolly Parton (no, that is NOT a joke.  They seriously played a TECHNO 9-5 last week!). 
Germs.  Oh. My. God.  Germs. 
I had to change clothes in the locker room.  About as unsanitary as I can imagine.  (deep breath, deep breath.)  I do not use dressing rooms, and yes, I am very particular about public bathrooms.  I certainly do not change clothes in a locker room.  Well, today it was either that or not work out, so I did my breathing in the car and geared up.  I walked in.  (I wonder if anyone could feel my panic?)  I successfully got my shirt changed and was feeling like the new king of the world when I realized I had to take off my shoes and remain standing in order to change pants.  So there I stood, in a work out top and a dress pants and shoes, trying to figure out how to manipulate this situation.  (Yes, I wear the little booties at the airport so I don't have to walk through security without shoes on.) 
Finally, I remembered that I am, in fact, acrobat. 
I took off one dress shoe, stood on one foot, took the pantleg off, put the pantleg of the sweat pants on, then my tennis shoe.  I repeated with the next leg, thinking, "I got this!" 
Then, I remembered that I am NOT, in fact, an acrobat.
Halfway through removing my dress pants (remember, I now have one leg in one pair of pants, one tennis shoe on, and half of the other leg in dress pants), I start to quiver.  I start to lean.  I fall.
Yep. 
Down. 
New bruise.  Location: upper left thigh.  Sexiness scale: 8.3.
In spite of all the drama, and the germs I contacted, I was still able to go ride the bike for 6.5 miles.  I was shooting for eight, but also wasn't planning on a sore leg.  When I got up to get the paper towel and whatever that sanitizing stuff is that sprays and makes me feel comforted to use on the equipment, a very tall man got there first, and got the paper towel for me.  I didn't have to touch the dispenser!  He thought he was just being nice.   But he made my day.  As I did not have to touch the handle on the paper towel dispenser, thus I did not contact any more than I already had in the locker room. 
Seriously, thank you, tall man at the gym. 

I wonder, am I sharing too much?  Are you freaked out by me yet?  My germ stuff is never in your face this much in real life.  I have learned to cope in subtle ways and not let on in groups that I have issues.  Only very few of my friends (until the advent of this) even realize I actually am freaky like this. 


Whatever.  Welcome to me.