November 6, 2017 by Amy
Bad Habit
In an attempt to help myself find things to write about, because some days suck when it comes to generation of original ideas, I bought a little book at Target entitled 300 Writing Prompts. This was an impulse purchase, like 99% of what Target sells to consumers (damn you Target!) but I think it’ll be good, especially for this month when I’ve committed to posting something – anything – on the blog every day.
I flipped the book open today and saw, “What bad habit would you like to change?” There are many I could probably blog for a month just on this topic, but I’ll pick one habit for today’s post and we’ll go from there.
My bad habit that I’d like to change is this: waiting until the last possible moment to head for the bathroom.
It’s simple, really, why I am always running for the potty. I am a busy person and going to the bathroom seriously cuts down on my productivity. I have too much to do to take bathroom breaks. I have to stop what I’m doing and leave my desk for a few moments, at least, and this breaks my concentration. If I am at work, I undoubtedly see people I know and then feel the need to stop and chat. And then I think about how I’d really like a piece of candy and so I start the office drift, wandering through and poking my head in people’s offices (some of whom I do not know because I am shameless when it comes to the candy hunt) and seeing if they have anything. If I’m being picky, I’ll grouse about everyone only having chocolate when all I want is something fruity. So my quick run to the bathroom becomes a 20 minute jaunt around the office in search of Skittles. Anyway, we’re talking about my trip to the bathroom, not my distractions after, so let’s get back to that.
By the time I finally leave my desk, which literally involves me standing and backing away from the keyboard while I’m still typing because I want to get that last thought down before I leave, I am way beyond the normal feeling of, “Gee, I need to go to the bathroom.” It’s bordering on emergency at that point. So I find myself sprinting to the bathroom while trying to smile casually at my coworkers. I’m fully aware that my “casual smile” looks more like a painful grimace and that my eyes are wide in that crazy “Oh sweet Jesus and the gods of elimination, please don’t fail me now” sort of way, but my facial expression is the least of my concerns at that point. I’d just like to make it to the bathroom without leaving a trail. Woe be the person who tries to stop me in a conversation on my way. I’ve been known to yell, “I’m sorry but we’ll have to catch up later because I have to go!” as I barrel by them, not even slowing to talk to them like a normal human being.
If I’m working at home, it’s still complicated. The mudroom bath, the one closest to my office, is currently unusable. I know this because the guts of the toilet are sitting on top of the toilet seat and have been for over a month. This means I have to pass up the most convenient potty and head all the way through the house. If I’m going all that way, I won’t hit Zoe’s bathroom because I don’t want to see what state of disarray/uncleanliness it’s currently in. So I make a hard right and go through my bedroom to our bathroom. This is fine, except that the entire route takes me through the mudroom (where the guinea pig has usually made a fine mess requiring a broom and dustpan), the kitchen (where the dishwasher is begging to be emptied and what is that gunk on the counter and oh yeah there’s the stack of mail from yesterday), the great room (how many blankets can this family use in one night, and there are coasters everywhere, and the small couch is cockeyed and the ottomans are weird), the laundry room (let me just toss a load in, move a load over, and fold this load real quick) and our bedroom (the bed is aired out enough, so now I can make it even though it’s 3 p.m. and closer to bedtime than when we awoke).
Sometimes I try to handle all that stuff before I get to the bathroom, and since I’ve already waited too long to leave my desk, it starts to become a real emergency. I get back there and I’m practically ricocheting off walls because I’m in such a rush and I have to go so bad I can no longer control my arms and legs. There have been some mighty close calls, I’ll admit. These are the moments that I remember why I’m thankful I can wear sweat pants while I work at home…the elastic waistband makes for quick and easy egress.
So if I could change one habit, I’d head for the bathroom earlier and not get distracted along the way. It’s good to have life goals, right?
Note: today’s image has nothing to do with the post, but it’s the photo I snapped today for my 365 project, so that’s what’s up there. I figure it’s way better than a picture of my toilet. Or my panicked expression as I run to the toilet. Or, egads, a selfie taken on my toilet. You’re welcome.
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