There are few things I hate worse in life and yet have to do more, than go to the bathroom.
Let's face it. Peeing is a waste of time. It's a waste of natural resources. It interrupts almost anything we want or need to do. It causes messes in children and the elderly, diaper rashes, and UTIs.
It is not my most favorite thing in the world.
Right now, at this very instant, I have the urge. I know that's too much information for most of you, but it illustrates my point. Rather than concentrate on writing a literary masterpiece, I'm sitting here writing about the only thing I seem to be able to think about at the moment. The venti iced coffee has worked its way through my system and is veritably banging at the door to be released into the vortex.
Sounds rather like a sci-fi movie, doesn't it?
I hate that I have to pee at the most inopportune moments. Yesterday at the office the movers came in to give a bid on moving us back into our building once the remodeling job is done. I had to walk them through each and every cubicle and office on the floor, describing in detail each and every piece of furniture we would take back with us.
About halfway through I got that oh-so-familiar feeling. And it got stronger and stronger the next twenty minutes or so until, by the time they left, I had to squeeze my knees together as I ran down the hall to the bathroom, praying that at least one of the three measly little stalls was open.
Thankfully, one was.
I have also become worse than a three-year-old as I age. If there is a program on television I don't want to miss or I'm particularly engrossed in a project, I will wait until I almost wet my drawers before succumbing to the trip to the john. How very mature of me is that?
Oh, I know there are others of you out there. You just won't admit it. You lead busy lives as well. You have better things to do than sit on the throne all day. And some day you'll come out of the water closet and tell your tales of woe as well.
Because I'm not the only one.