Why I Always Visit the Bathroom Before I Leave the Office

You know how everyone has a THING? Like some sort of random THING that makes them weird or original and unique and all that goodness? Well, one of my random things was spurred from an experience I had about 13 years ago.

I had a bad month. Like a really bad month. So bad that even this many years later I look back and think, “Wow, that month really sucked!” In the space of a few weeks a beloved coworker died (while at the office), my dog died, I went through a really bad breakup with a long-term boyfriend and I was involved in not one, but TWO car accidents that were not my fault.

Yeah, that month was a doozie.

Let’s start with car accident number one to give you a little peek into my emotions…

After driving a hand-me-down 1985 Honda Accord SEI from the time I was 16 to when I turned 21, I was super excited to buy my first BRAND NEW car of my life, a green Toyota Echo. I loved that car when I bought it and was almost afraid to drive it around because it was so shiny and new. One day, a couple months after I bought my car, I was driving home from work when someone veered into my lane and sideswiped me.  I was startled, but started pulling my car over onto the shoulder so that we could exchange insurance information. Well, imagine my shock that the other driver sped away from the scene of the crime.

It was HIS FAULT and he sped away. I don’t know if you know this about me, but when I get furious it’s like the freaking HULK comes out of me. Well, this ASSBISCUIT sped off down the road and I chased him down. Yeah, that’s right. I chased him down with every ounce of horsepower that little Echo had to offer. And he kept driving faster.

So here we are, two cars having our very own high-speed chase down the road. He’s frantically checking his rearview mirror and I’m flashing my lights and waving at him to PULL THE FRICK OVER. At some point, he realizes that I’m not going to give up and pulls his car to the side of the road. I Bo Duke it on over and slide to a stop behind him. I burst out of my car and advance on his like I’m going to beat the crap out of him.

Now I’m typically not a violent person, but I was FURIOUS at that moment. It was like JOULES SMASH as I approached his car. Luckily (for both him and me), a nice man intercepted me who had seen the whole thing and offered to be my witness in court. I calmed down. Everyone survived. Well, he almost didn’t survive when he called me later that night and begged me not to report the accident to his insurance. But we both made it through that drama without anyone getting punched in the face.

Here’s where we get to talk about the second accident. Are you ready?

Because it happened the next day.

Once again, I went to work and drove back home. However, this time I went to the tanning salon* to get my burn on. When I was through with my time in the tanning bed, I changed directly into my gym clothes with the intention of going straight to the gym before returning home.

Since the gym was just a few minutes away, I decided to use the restroom once I got there rather than using the one at the tanning salon.

Do you see where this is going? Now is the title of this post starting to make a little bit of sense?

While I was sitting at the stoplight between the tanning salon and the gym I got rear-ended. I was sitting at the light, completely stopped, and the lady behind me didn’t realize there was a red light and hit the back of my car without even taking her foot off the gas.

The day after my brand-new car had been sideswiped.

The same month that I lost a friend, my dog and broke up with my stupid piece of crap cheating boyfriend.

To say that I was an emotional wreck is a total understatement. On top of the ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME feeling, my back and neck hurt. Like, a lot. Oh and the back of my car was destroyed. It looked like the Green Giant took the bumper off and shoved it back on at a totally odd angle.

While the ambulance was on its way, I called my dad in tears to tell him I was in yet another accident. The next hour flew by with me being loaded and taped down to a stretcher board and wheeled into the back of the ambulance. I remember that one of the paramedics hit on me and said how much he liked my back tattoo. Other than that, it was a blur of anger and pain. Oh yeah, and the lady who hit me told the cop that she wasn’t really sure if it was her fault. The cop laughed at her.

So, there I was, taped down to a board in an ambulance. I can’t remember if my dad showed up and rode with me or met me at the hospital. What I do remember is that I really had to pee.

Like REALLY REALLY had to pee.

But I was tied to a board. So I patiently waited to be wheeled into the room where I could get my x-ray. And waited. And waited. And waited.

As you could imagine, the feeling of having to pee did not go away.

It got worse. And worse. The nurse offered me a bedpan, but I was stubborn and told her I would wait. So I waited even longer.

It really didn’t help things that my dad was laughing at me and whispering phrases like “running water” and “the trickle of a faucet” into my ear.

All in all, I waited HOURS with the constant fear that I just might pee myself. When I was finally ripped free from the board after my x-ray (nothing broken, but I think I might have lost half an eyebrow to the tape), I stumbled to the bathroom and had the most magnificent peeing party of my entire life. It was a rainbow and Disney songs kind of moment. It was GLORIOUS.

This moment happened over 13 years ago and still to this day I have to go to the bathroom before getting in the car. If I leave my work building without making a pit stop, I will actually turn back around.

I am paranoid that the ONE DAY I leave with even an ounce of peepee in my bladder I will be stuck in traffic. Or get in an accident. Or cough really hard (darn you pregnancy). Or run out of gas on the side of the road.

So that’s my THING. What’s yours?

*This is back when I thought tanning beds were okay and people were just over-reacting about the cancer risk. You know, before I had to go through the pain and worry of having per-cancerous moles sliced off my body.

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