You know internet, I'm glad we're friends. So much so that I'm going to test the limits of said friendship by relaying some personal stuff you might not even want to hear. Just so I can tell it to somebody and get it off my chest.
I used to have a well trained body. Monday through Friday, between 5:30 and 6:30pm do you know what would happen, internet? I'd go to the bathroom. I was regular internet, and it was amazing! I don't even know how I did it. One day while noticing some coworkers potty habits I realized I had somehow trained myself to (delicately, now) drop a deuce only during those specific times of the work week.
This was a fascinating moment. I always had deuce difficulties growing up. Overflowing toilets one day, rampant constipation the next. Between the two extremes I used more old towels and Fletcher's Castoria than any other child EVER. Don't ask how I know. Just trust me.
Well, to be an adult and have all that craziness settled? Absolutely the best gift of working adulthood given to anyone EVER. This fact is close to verification from Guinness record people. Do not distrust its veracity.
My issue now is so radically different. Ever since my first vacation of the year (we love Austin!) about a month ago, I've been all out of wack. Sad, internet. So very, very sad.
At first I assumed it was just a holdover from my trip. I never doody out of town. EVER. I don't know why this is, just that it's a fact of my life. Maybe my subconscious is afraid of stopping up some innocent, unassuming hotel toilet and so it locks me up for the duration of my travels. Who knows? Anyway, I had two days back without going to work. When I returned to the job I had a scare. I had to go, and bad...and at 11:30 in the morning.
What!? What the hell is this?!?! The trend has continued. 10am, 1pm, 7am (before my clock even goes off!), 4pm, and on and on. Will this madness never end? I miss the old days so much, internet. I could count on never worrying about overflowage away from my home potty. I never needed to sit and stew with my thoughts for long periods of time because I lacked bathroom reading. On the other hand, I have become well acquainted with our friendly work accessible toilet. In the days of yore, before I needed the private time, it frightened me. There are windows, mottled glass with a leaf pattern to protect privacy. A corner is broken out and reveals a cobweb. This bathroom is completely separate from our regular ladies loo. In its own single toilet/sink room. Because it's not a stall, the door is waaaaaaaaaay over there when you sit down. Therefore, it's IMPERATIVE to make sure you've locked yourself in prior to doing your bidding. There are also strange green stains under the commode I'd rather not think about.
This place has become my refuge. I see no turning back, internet. Maybe I should bring magazines for next time.