The company I work for has started a new health initiative involving pedometers. Each employee is to wear a pedometer every day and keep track of the number of steps they take during the week. Employees are broken up into teams, and the teams are “racing” from city to city across the country. Whatever team gets to the final destination first wins!
Though some people thought the idea was lame, I was all excited the first day they started the program. I was walking all over the place, trying to rack up steps for my team. I wanted to surprise myself, though, so I didn’t plan to look at the number of steps I had taken until the end of the day. Before I knew it, I had forgotten all about the pedometer.
That is, until later that afternoon, when I had to go to the bathroom. As I stood up and turned to flush the toilet, I heard a “plunk!”
“What was that?” I thought to myself.
Then I saw it. My poor pedometer, floating in the toilet.
“What am I supposed to do with that?” I thought. “I can’t flush it, but I don’t want to reach into the toilet to get it out!”
I stood there for a minute pondering the situation. Finally, I made up my mind. I wrapped my hand in 15 sheets of paper towel, (not sure what I thought that would do), reached into the bowl, pulled out the pedometer, and threw it in the trash. Then, I flushed the toilet, washed my hands three times, and walked directly to the fitness center to get a new pedometer.
Back at 0.