if you think this is TMI -- blame the drugs.
Well, I got some new medication, and it's $11 -- a pill. I theorized to my co-worker, Ben, that it must be made of sunshine and moonbeams. Well, now I feel like skipping through a meadow full of kittens, so I guess it must be!
My dad's doing dandy, but has been coerced by my mom into sounding feeble over the phone so I'll go home for dinner. She's a wiley one.
Which leads me to... poop. Seriously, I know this is a gross subject only left to boy discussion, 'cause as everyone knows, girls don't poop, but I've spent the past few minutes cackling mentally to myself, and I need to get this out (ahaha). (Seriously, these pills are AMAZING).
So, I'm in the bathroom, getting ready to do my business, when I hear a rustling noise a few stalls over. I feel I should note here that although I feel very safe and at home in a public bathroom stall, I cannot poop if I know someone else is around to hear it. I just can't. So I figured I'd just wait the other person out like I always do; listen for the footsteps, the trickle of water, the whirr of the automatic paper towel dispenser, and the creak of the door closing. Only, this person won't leave their stall. I wait, and I wait, and I wait. It must have been a good four minutes, and nothing. Four minutes doesn't sound like a long time in the real world, but in bathroom world, it's eternity.
I know they're still there because every minute or so there's the slight creak of someone adjusting their position on a toilet seat. I know they know I'm there, because I make a point of scraping my shoe against the dingy tile to signify my displeasure. I know if I leave, I'll just have to come back a few minutes later, humiliated, but that if I wait long enough, the likelihood of someone else coming in and adding to the standoff rises dramatically.
Are you on the edge of your seat? I gave in. I had never encountered another public poopaphobe, and I knew that if they were anything like me, they could wait upwards of 15 minutes to be left alone. So I exited my stall, walked over to the sink, splashed some water around, waved my hand at the paper towel dispenser, and slunk through the door, down the hall, to my office.
I'm going back in there in five minutes, and she'd damn well better be done by then.