Stairway to Heaven?

I hate to acknowledge that an aspect of my self-diagnosed obsessive compulsive disorder involves counting my steps. I revealed this to Doc. B. on a recent jog, that to pass the time, I frequently count my steps between landmarks and/or count the number of steps for each breath in and out. She already knew that I had a habit of counting stairs. This came up in a conversation with some friends when I disclosed the fact that I knew how many steps there were on the staircase in our house. As usual, I’m sure that alcohol was probably involved in this confession as I don’t think I would have admitted it otherwise. Since the cat is out of the bag now, I figured I could come clean on the blog too. Oh, and by the way, Doc. B. counted the steps in our house only to find that I was indeed correct.

I also know way too much about the stairwell at my office. It takes 5 minutes for me to walk down from the 21st floor and another ten minutes to walk back up. So it’s been one of my standard 15 minute break activities since I started working here at the Federal building. You’d think that an iPod would be entertainment enough while I’m hoofing it up and down these stairs, but no, my counting continues. There are 24 stair steps between each floor, 12 stair steps between each landing and 6 steps on each landing. There are nine Automated External Defibrillators, and eight signs that say "no food or drink in the stairwell". I should note that in addition to the iPod and the counting, there are always other things to do and see in the stairs. For example, for the past three days, there has been a copy of a Code of Federal Regulations just lying outside the door to the 19th floor. Who would leave this there and/or not realize that they dropped it? And what should one do when confronted with this situation? Should I turn it in to the lost and found or just leave it there? And despite those warnings about food and drinks, fellow federal employees, likely named Hansel and Gretel, usually leave me a trail of crushed Cheetos or popcorn so that I can find my way out of the stairwell. And if it's not actual food, it's gum and candy wrappers. One day I found nine pennies. It was pretty obvious that someone had been dropping them from above to see where they would land. Clearly other people have fun in the stairwell just like me. And can you imagine these stairs in the middle of a fire drill? Thank goodness I’ve only participated in one of them since working here. It’s very difficult to stay in step with a crowd of people, many of whom have not been in the stairwell since the last fire drill. It took substantially longer then five minutes to get to the first floor exit.

I’ve had a pedometer in the past but it went on the blitz and was more frustrating than helpful. For example, I would jog for 30 minutes and it would only register 14 steps. This is very annoying to someone with a step counting obsession. So I was pleasantly surprised when my friend, Mrs. T., presented me with a new pedometer today. "They" say you should get in 10,000 steps per day. I should have no problem hitting that goal and maybe, just maybe, I’ll give my brain a break and let the pedometer count my steps? Nah…probably not.