I pride myself on being efficient. Sometimes to a fault.
I once tried to insert the metallic sun-screen in the windshield of my car before I had finished parking.
You would think I would learn, but that desire for efficiency is a MONSTER, I tell you.
And so it was that – at 6am – I decided to combine two "not so fun" tasks in an attempt to create efficiency and get a jump on my day.
Dressing to exercise, I went into the bathroom and started coloring my hair. One of the reasons I do it at home is (in addition to being cheap) that I can't stand the idea of sitting in a salon for an extra hour while waiting for it to process. At home, I can generally knock it out in 40 minutes, including the 30 minutes the color actually needs to sit on my hair. But those 30 minutes when it's sitting? Feels like such a waste of time.
So this morning, in my stroke of brilliance, after applying the color and setting the timer for 30 minutes, I got on my bike and dialed up a 25 minute Peloton ride. I mean, if I have to sit around for 30 minutes anyway, I might as well knock out a workout, right?
I was feeling pleased with myself until around the 8 minutes into the ride, when "my collarbones started to glisten" (which is the Peloton instructor's delicate euphamism for "started sweating like a pig"). I wracked my brain: does my HEAD sweat? I honestly couldn't remember. I knew my FACE got sweaty, but I wasn't sure about my head.
Compulsive as I am, I decided to finish the workout, come what may.
I soon had confirmation that my head does, in fact, sweat, and without a mirror, I found myself hoping that what was trickling ever so gently down my forehead was simply sweat, and nothing more.
Workout complete, I went to shower and rinse the color out of my hair. I stopped to look in the mirror. Looking back at me was Rudi Giuliani.
I shuddered, feeling something akin to empathy for the man. I might not like him or respect him. In fact, I might think he deserves to do long, hard time in prison. But for once, I teetered on the brink of understanding some tiny sliver of his brain. Because in those dark veins of dye running down his forehead on that press conference, I finally understood that I had caught a glimpse of a fellow Efficiency Queen.
And now I'm thinking back to every time I've told a client that "a strength over-done becomes a weakness." As it turns out, efficiency isn't always a desirable thing.
Just ask Rudy.
