So, I forgot what it was like to have to really use the bathroom. You know, the sudden urge that forces you to squeeze your legs together and focus on nothing but making it to the toilet with dry pants.
Mind the Puddle:
Trocadero Subway Station, Paris.
I've peed my pants in some pretty uncomfortable places before. It always involves a full bladder and lots of laughing.
Off the top of my head, I can recall a time I was changing a lightbulb before I had a college party with some friends. We wanted a red glow to warm up the front porch on Limestone Street, so I hopped on a particleboard bookcase to change the bulb. A friend of mine was trying to hold me up, but I think she was a bit too tipsy for the task. I lost my balance, she dropped me and I wet my pants... all in one fell swoop.
Another time, I was running with some high school friends through a Paris subway station. We were overseas to sing at various spots in honor of the 50th anniversary of D-Day, and it was 4th of July. Five of us were running through the Trocadero station, all trying to get through the turnstile on one ticket, and I just about lost it. Fear, excitement and urgency were rushing through my brains, and somehow I just let go of everything in my bladder. I was wearing a skirt for the occasion, so everything just ran down my legs, making for a puddle on the train platform. One of my friends grabbed the big Evian bottle in my hand (I don't think all the sloshing around helped me when we were running through the station) and just started dousing my legs.
So, maybe that's why Paris smells so bad.
This new diet is bringing some changes to my routine. Sometimes I feel like I'm floating, between all the water and the extra fluid in all the fruit I'm eating. I went to the bathroom three times within my first five hours at work. Pre-diet, I'd only go maybe one visit a shift.
I guess it's good, flushing out all these impurities. I'm just glad I don't pay the water bill at home.