The Efficiency Expert Gains Another Two Minutes

The Efficiency Expert Gains Another Two Minutes

I got the nickname “E” through a series of adolescent events wherein my friends discovered, slowly, that I was a bit … structured. At first I was referred to as The Efficiency Expert by a room-mate at school who I wasn’t even that friendly with, and obviously it was meant as an insult. Though I couldn’t and still can’t see how living your life according to a certain code and schedule is a thing to feel ashamed about.

 

My real friends thought this hilarious and The Efficiency Expert became my official nickname. In the name of efficiency they then reduced it down to “E”. Whenever I am tempted to imagine they have forgotten the origins of my nickname, I usually do something like organizing my socks alphabetically by color.

 

Whatever. I know one thing: Life is short. I evaluate every pragmatic, life-sustaining activity based on how quickly I can get it done without sacrificing effectiveness, in order to squeeze out more time for fun. That’s the point. I’m not insanely efficient. I’m insanely fun, because I am the efficiency expert.

 

Recently, I gained two minutes from my workouts and deposited them into my fun account. I work out for forty-five minutes every morning, not including the seven-and-a-half minute walk to my gym and back for a total gym investment of an hour. Or that’s the plan; my phone rings constantly and my job requires me to answer if they call. So I would get set up on a treadmill, dump my gym bag on the floor nearby, and begin my workout. Then, every time my phone rang in my bag I would have to pause, reach down, and see who called. Cost every morning: Two minutes.

 

Sure, I could have put the phone in my pocket or on the treadmill panel, but that would be distracting. I would check my email and have to Google every stray thought I had while running. Total cost of having my phone accessible during the workout: Five minutes. A simple equation meant the phone stayed in the bag.

 

But, two minutes. It rankled.

 

The solution? A simple one. I spied a gorgeous clear gym bag on the floor one day, went home, and found clear gym bag in the Clear Bag Store eshop. Problem, solved. I placed my phone in one of the pockets, dropped my bag on the floor by the treadmill, and every time the phone rang I was able to just glance down without breaking stride, see who was calling, and decide whether to ignore it or answer. Net gain every morning: Two glorious minutes, immediately donated to lingering over coffee at the local café before work.

 

The best part? Not only is this gym bag bigger and better organized than my old one, it’s super easy to clean, which is really, really important for a bag that holds a sweaty ecosystem for several hour every day, incubating. Net loss for cleaning the bag: One minute. Bu totally worth it.

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