Why am I only talking about the gym?

I can’t talk so much about work, since I know some of my co-workers actually read this thing. Heck, I just found out that someone in New Zealand reads this thing. I’m not quite sure why, but on the flip side people are probably wondering why I’m writing this thing.

I like my new job so far, even though it’s customer related and my job is to annoy everyone. The customer reports a problem, I ask people about it (annoying them), ask them to fix it (annoying them), and get the answer back to the customer who is annoyed that I didn’t give them the exact answer that they wanted. But it’s fun so far. The most silly and consistently annoying thing is that the guy in the next cube is a very loud typer and I have to use my iPod to drown it out. Fortunately, I remembered to reload the Eurodisco on my iPod tonight, so work will once again be harmonious. That and they finally fixed my “Voice Mail” light so it’s not stuck on all the time even though no one ever calls me.

So at the gym I found out two things. One is that I’m old and I’m not supposed to be working so hard so often (or so I’m told). The other is that no one remembers the National Lampoon recording of “The Jazz Musician” where “Mr. Rogers” is interviewing a jazz musician who calls the Egg McMuffin an “eggamuffin.” The guy who invented the Egg McMuffin just died and I told them I was in mourning. Fortunately, there’s someone else there who is my age and she remembered eggamuffins so I didn’t have to go running to Google to prove to everyone that my neurons weren’t randomly firing again.

R.I.P. Herb Peterson, Egg McMuffin inventor.