Sunday, August 5, 2012

a little catching up...

The DH is all hard-working monkey now that he's retired...2 part-time jobs and will be going to school full-time in just over a week.  So I'll have time, maybe, to post more.  I'll try anyway.  OK, I'll think about it more.  I really do have things I want to write about, and sometimes I even make notes, but somehow I rarely manage to make/take the time and I should, because I love it so much.  Even if none of you are reading it, though I hope you are.  At the moment, I'm updating my iTunes, which is quite a chore because of the seemingly billions of podcasts I listen to.  Plus I had to buy some new music, and take some old stuff off--you know the deal.  What I'm saying is that I'm in front of the compy here at home, got some music playing, checking my Facebook, and typing away.  Cold beer in front of me, kittehs at my feet, and here we go...

The 1st thing that springs to mind that I've been wanting to write about is poop.  Well, maybe not poop specifically, but poop-adjacent...um...apropos of poop...OK, I think you get the point.  Those of you who know me personally know that I will rarely pass up a chance for a conversation about poop.  I love to talk about poop, largely because everyone does it but it's still such a verboten topic, and it makes me laugh.  Plus I enjoy making people uncomfortable.

So I have this sort of on-going battle happening in the restroom at work.  There are close to 30 or 35 people altogether working on my floor, and nearly all of them are women.  We have 3 stalls, and for some bizarre reason, 2 urinals...Yes, it's strange.  Yes, I've seen feet in those stalls, which is even stranger.  Anyway, I personally sometimes feel that 1 stall should be the designated poop stall, although I realize this could present a problem if more than 1 of us needs to poop at the same time, so practicality deems that we scratch that idea.  My issue is the air freshener (which shall heretofore be referred to as "AF.")  We generally all take turns purchasing a can or 2 of air freshener for the bathroom, which is placed on the floor between 2 of the stalls.  Look I get it, easy access for both, right?  Sure.  I don't like it, I prefer my AF to be placed on top of the toilet paper dispenser, for discreet access.  I mean, I like discretion even though I like to talk about poop.  So usually when I require the AF, I kick the flusher to cover up the noise of the spray, then quietly place the giant metal can of AF on the toilet paper dispenser.  Makes sense, right?  But every time I come back in there, there the AF is, on the floor once more.  Fine, I get it.  Except.  Except that now, we have 2 cans of AF.  That's right, there's enough for 2 of the 3 stalls to have their own, and therefore both be designated as poop stalls.  So why, for FSM'S SAKE WHY, do I continue to come into the bathroom and find BOTH cans sitting inches away from one another, beneath the stall divider?!?!  I DO NOT UNDERSTAND why they BOTH now need to be placed on the floor, especially TOGETHER!  I don't think we really need variety of fragrance choices at work when it comes to pooping.  Lavender, vanilla, lemon, I don't give a shit (see what I did there?) as long as it covers the fucking poop smell!!  But no.  No, I must be subjected to this non-stop, passive-aggressive battle over proper placement of the AF.  Fucks' sake. DISCLAIMER: The views expressed herein are mine & mine alone. They do not reflect those of my friends, family, co-workers, employer, or anyone else I know.

The other minor thing is that I've been having really elaborate, very vivid dreams lately, and not all of them are medication-induced, alcohol-induced, or food-induced.  At least I don't think they are.  I've always done this, but lately I seem to be remembering them more.  Last night I dreamed that I was living in a post-Utopian future, and I was an indentured sex servant to a soldier (hint: he looked a bit like a young Hugh Jackman bred with Ryan Reynolds) in this really extreme, futuristic military faction.  The problem was that we were in love with each other, but if anyone found out, we could both be killed.  It was very intense and romantic and a little sexy but also sort of sad.

I have other things to share with you, but I think I'm going to save those to another post so as not to get too terribly messy and stream-of-consciousness with you.

With love and poop,
Lola

No comments:

Post a Comment