Why I, Given The Choice, Would Rather Work At Home, AKA Wishing I Were Male
If I were a male, I would have needed to visit the restroom at 11:02 and been back at my desk at 11:05. In order to take care of business, I would need to touch two non-personal surfaces with my bare hand - the bathroom doorknob and the sink faucet. But as a FEMALE:
11:02 Lord, how that coffee does run through a girl.
11:03 Enter the restroom. Encounter coworker brushing her hair. Make friendly comment about said hair.
11:08 Eyeball favorite stall as things are now considerably urgent, consider just sitting down. Think about the inability to tell the difference between pee and flushing water splashback. Coworker leaves.
11:09 Retrieve paper seat cover from dispenser, located not inside the stall but outside by the sink because building management is fucking cheap. Enter stall, trying not to touch anything but the latch on the door. Carefully rip along the little inner lines. Gently lay seat cover on toilet with the inner flap hanging down into the water.
11:10 Repeat seat cover retrieval, door latch touching, tearing, and laying, as original seat cover immediately soaks up all the water on the seat.
11:11 Repeat process for the third time, since without water to adhere the cover to the seat, the tissue paper drifts into the toilet from the mighty draft of my ass coming towards it.
11:12 Sit down.
11:12 Another coworker enters and recognizes shoes. Conversation commences. Coworker is identified as someone with whom I am not close enough to explain that I cannot do my business with someone else in the room.
11:14 Coworker leaves.
11:14 Business type one commences.
11:15 Stomach cramping reminds me not to drink coffee on an empty stomach.
11:16 Coworker enters.
11:17 Stomach cramping worsens. Two more coworkers enter and begin conversation about the perils of home plumbing and leaking hot water valves. None of these people are those with whom I wish to confess my issues.
11:18 What the hell is this, the new office party spot? There are six women chattering by the goddamn sink. Leave! Go! Shoo! I'm dying over here!
11:19 My shoes are recognized again.
11:21 Well, on the bright side, it appears that I am in fact capable of doing business type two with other life forms present.
11:22 Jesus, I feel like a soft-serve machine. Resolve not to eat double helpings of curry at dinner time ever again.
11:22 The reason I have issues regarding my business with others in the room to begin with becomes apparent. Someone has moved the air freshener out of this stall. Fuck. That was why this was my favorite stall. Why else would I have a favorite stall? It's not like the decor was anything special.
11:23 Protect hand with tissue and flush toilet.
11:23 Look at stall latch and try not to think about all the other restroom users who have to root around in their personal regions during That Time Of The Month and then touch the latch.
11:24 Touch latch, leave stall and go straight to the sink. Pretend not to notice poisonous cloud trailing me.
11:25 See can of air freshener located across the room behind two of the chatty women. Realize that by grabbing it and racing back to the stall, I will be all but screaming "INDIAN FOOD AND COFFEE MAKES ME POOP!" Opt not to make a scene.
11:27 Participate in conversation hoping that the smell is all in my head.
11:28 Unknown woman enters restroom. The smell is not all in my head.
11:28 Finish washing hands, use paper towel to turn off the faucet.
11:29 Use elbow to open bathroom door in memory of the former assistant who would root around in the personal region during That Time and then leave restroom without washing hands.
I DO NOT ENJOY BEING A GIRL.
11:02 Lord, how that coffee does run through a girl.
11:03 Enter the restroom. Encounter coworker brushing her hair. Make friendly comment about said hair.
11:08 Eyeball favorite stall as things are now considerably urgent, consider just sitting down. Think about the inability to tell the difference between pee and flushing water splashback. Coworker leaves.
11:09 Retrieve paper seat cover from dispenser, located not inside the stall but outside by the sink because building management is fucking cheap. Enter stall, trying not to touch anything but the latch on the door. Carefully rip along the little inner lines. Gently lay seat cover on toilet with the inner flap hanging down into the water.
11:10 Repeat seat cover retrieval, door latch touching, tearing, and laying, as original seat cover immediately soaks up all the water on the seat.
11:11 Repeat process for the third time, since without water to adhere the cover to the seat, the tissue paper drifts into the toilet from the mighty draft of my ass coming towards it.
11:12 Sit down.
11:12 Another coworker enters and recognizes shoes. Conversation commences. Coworker is identified as someone with whom I am not close enough to explain that I cannot do my business with someone else in the room.
11:14 Coworker leaves.
11:14 Business type one commences.
11:15 Stomach cramping reminds me not to drink coffee on an empty stomach.
11:16 Coworker enters.
11:17 Stomach cramping worsens. Two more coworkers enter and begin conversation about the perils of home plumbing and leaking hot water valves. None of these people are those with whom I wish to confess my issues.
11:18 What the hell is this, the new office party spot? There are six women chattering by the goddamn sink. Leave! Go! Shoo! I'm dying over here!
11:19 My shoes are recognized again.
11:21 Well, on the bright side, it appears that I am in fact capable of doing business type two with other life forms present.
11:22 Jesus, I feel like a soft-serve machine. Resolve not to eat double helpings of curry at dinner time ever again.
11:22 The reason I have issues regarding my business with others in the room to begin with becomes apparent. Someone has moved the air freshener out of this stall. Fuck. That was why this was my favorite stall. Why else would I have a favorite stall? It's not like the decor was anything special.
11:23 Protect hand with tissue and flush toilet.
11:23 Look at stall latch and try not to think about all the other restroom users who have to root around in their personal regions during That Time Of The Month and then touch the latch.
11:24 Touch latch, leave stall and go straight to the sink. Pretend not to notice poisonous cloud trailing me.
11:25 See can of air freshener located across the room behind two of the chatty women. Realize that by grabbing it and racing back to the stall, I will be all but screaming "INDIAN FOOD AND COFFEE MAKES ME POOP!" Opt not to make a scene.
11:27 Participate in conversation hoping that the smell is all in my head.
11:28 Unknown woman enters restroom. The smell is not all in my head.
11:28 Finish washing hands, use paper towel to turn off the faucet.
11:29 Use elbow to open bathroom door in memory of the former assistant who would root around in the personal region during That Time and then leave restroom without washing hands.
I DO NOT ENJOY BEING A GIRL.
posted by Sanya at 11:08 AM
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