Mood: embarrassed
If you know me at all, you know that I have a ridiculous fear of rats and mice. Pretty self explanatory. I hate their tails. Their beady little eyes. Their teeth. The fact that they are disease-ridden. You know that they all just want to bite you, and give you rabies and god knows what else. I can’t talk about this right now I’m getting all stressed out.
You may also know that I have a totally irrational fear of toilets. Weird I know. I can’t totally explain it. I think it stems partially from a blacked-out potty training trauma. Also, I’ve always secretly suspected that the upstairs bathroom at my house is haunted. So much so that when I was little I was scared to go to the bathroom at night. When I was too old to pee my bed, I would usually hold it till morning and sprint down the hall first thing. When I either couldn’t hold it, or managed to convince myself that there was no such thing as ghosts {probably} I would use it but I would NEVER flush at night. I was convinced the loud flushing noise was a demon roaring at me from the depths of hell (or the plumbing system...whatever). This last point was further exacerbated by a little movie called “Look Who’s Talking Too.” Say what you want about that film, my psyche, whatever, but there is a talking toilet scene in that film that scarred me. Later in life I would say it was out of courtesy to my parents. " I didn’t want to wake them", I'd say. Don't believe that line. This fear, as I said, is totally irrational, and as I can’t avoid it I use the bathroom regardless.
Anyway, the two fears may seem like they'd never meet, but you’d be wrong. They actually come into contact with one another on an almost daily basis. When I was in middle school I heard a story on the radio about rats living in sewers. I’m sure you’ve probably heard this old wives tale, but the story was about a woman who discovered a rat in her toilet. *Alright I’m getting nervous.* This woman did not just discover a disease infested rabid rat in her toilet by stumbling upon it one morning before doing her business. Oh no. This woman discovered the rat WHILE doing her business. Oh god! Yes, that’s right. It bit her. Right in the tuckus!! OH GOD!!!
Needless to say, I have never really been the same. Although I know it probably never happens, I still have a hard time getting past the nervousness that is me KNOWING a rat will be biting me on my ass this time.
It’s never happened.
So fun story time now:
At work I have all kinds of issues with using the bathroom. These issues are unrelated to my irrational fears, but are no doubt exacerbated by them. These stories are for another day and another time. The story I want to tell you about is how I thoroughly embarrassed myself at my place of employment this week. I went to the bathroom, and I set up the toilet with one of those sheets (what are they called?).
In case you’re wondering, I don’t do this anywhere else. I don’t mind the germs. But, for some reason, I'm worried about them at my work.I know. I’m weird.
Anyway, so I put the sheet down, and then I do my business. I’ll spare you the details. Except that you need to know, if you don’t already, that it was freaking hot this week. So I was kind of sweaty. When I stood up afterward the sheet came along with me. It stuck to my sweaty legs.
Well, naturally I thought this was it. The big one. Obviously a disgusting disease-ridden beastie was attacking me! So, yes… I screamed.
I hope you enjoyed that little story. The end is not as spectacular… thankfully. There was not anyone outside in the hallway. Or maybe there was, and they heard me scream and ran away. Who knows. But regardless of who heard me, I feel like an idiot. It was a toilet protector people!
Hope you enjoyed that.
Oh. Side note: If you youtube search “Look Who’s Talking Too toilet” you get a bunch of Jonas brothers videos...Explanation please?
1 comment
Monica Heistand wrote at 11:39pm May 29th, 2009
I love you mindy!! that is hilarious!!!!!
Resisting the urge to grow up (on Mondays and more)
Friday, May 29, 2009
Saturday, May 9, 2009
Nothing in Particular
Location: Alpenrose Velodrome.
Mood: tired
Today I was thinking. Well, okay, actually I’ll let you in on a little secret: I think everyday. I’m always thinking. My brain thinks. I’m a thinker.... Today was a special case of thinking. Obviously. That’s why I’m writing about it.
The point Mindy?
Right, sorry. I don’t talk much to people I don’t know. I've always wondered why. It’s not like I don’t know how to talk. When I do, people seem to like me...I haven’t really figured that one out yet. It’s not like I don’t think of questions. Sure, I tend not to think of small talk questions. Things like “what’s your name?” and “What do you do for a living?” don’t occur to me. I think more along the lines of, “I wonder what his childhood was like.” and “why does she have those mannerisms.” Not things you can ask acquaintances without them thinking your weird. But there’s always been more to my quietness than just that.
Then today it occurred to me. I also don’t like to pry. I was standing with a woman who I have known for most (if not all of) my life. This whole time she’s been married to the same man. They seem very happy. We were at a birthday party, and her husband wasn’t there. I was thinking. Here’s what my thought process went like.
“I wonder where her husband is. Maybe he had something to do. Just ask her where he is. I can’t ask her that. Well why not? It’s a perfectly valid question What if they had a fight? or Worse, what if they’re separated and getting a divorce?! I don’t want to remind her. Well, if it’s happening she knows it’s happening so you won’t be reminding her of something she’s forgotten. Plus, they’re probably fine. Yeah, but what if they’re not fine and I’m the one who reminded her? Oh god just ask!”
After about two minutes of that I finally asked. He stayed home because he wanted to do the laundry. Very mundane.
So this thought process set me analyzing myself. (Like I so often do). I realized that earlier in the day a similar thing had happened to me. A man I have known my whole life was at this bike race that I was at. He had a band aid on his cheek. I wanted to ask him about it, but I didn’t because… Well, here is what my thought process went like.
“I wonder why he has that band aid on his face. It kind of looks like it might have just been a scratch. It’s right in the middle of his cheek. Actually, it looks more like he had a mole, or something cancerous removed. I should ask him about the band aid. But what if it was cancerous and that upsets him? True he doesn’t get upset that often, but what if I’m the one who upsets him by asking. What if it’s something stupid and he’s embarrassed? Plus, I bet everyone has been asking him about it all day. I won’t ask.”
I never asked, but once I realized my problem I wondered why not. It’s not like this man was unaware of the band aid on his face. Like if I had asked he’d go, “what band aid?” Or if he’d had a mole removed, it’s not like he wouldn’t know it had been removed. Even f he was embarrassed, it’s not like that’s my fault. Plus, if he was THAT embarrassed maybe he just shouldn’t have gone out in public with the band aid on.
So, I guess maybe my point is that I over think things. Often I wonder about deep things and don’t care about the superficial. I hate to pry. And, I’m too concerned about upsetting other people.
The End
Mood: tired
Today I was thinking. Well, okay, actually I’ll let you in on a little secret: I think everyday. I’m always thinking. My brain thinks. I’m a thinker.... Today was a special case of thinking. Obviously. That’s why I’m writing about it.
The point Mindy?
Right, sorry. I don’t talk much to people I don’t know. I've always wondered why. It’s not like I don’t know how to talk. When I do, people seem to like me...I haven’t really figured that one out yet. It’s not like I don’t think of questions. Sure, I tend not to think of small talk questions. Things like “what’s your name?” and “What do you do for a living?” don’t occur to me. I think more along the lines of, “I wonder what his childhood was like.” and “why does she have those mannerisms.” Not things you can ask acquaintances without them thinking your weird. But there’s always been more to my quietness than just that.
Then today it occurred to me. I also don’t like to pry. I was standing with a woman who I have known for most (if not all of) my life. This whole time she’s been married to the same man. They seem very happy. We were at a birthday party, and her husband wasn’t there. I was thinking. Here’s what my thought process went like.
“I wonder where her husband is. Maybe he had something to do. Just ask her where he is. I can’t ask her that. Well why not? It’s a perfectly valid question What if they had a fight? or Worse, what if they’re separated and getting a divorce?! I don’t want to remind her. Well, if it’s happening she knows it’s happening so you won’t be reminding her of something she’s forgotten. Plus, they’re probably fine. Yeah, but what if they’re not fine and I’m the one who reminded her? Oh god just ask!”
After about two minutes of that I finally asked. He stayed home because he wanted to do the laundry. Very mundane.
So this thought process set me analyzing myself. (Like I so often do). I realized that earlier in the day a similar thing had happened to me. A man I have known my whole life was at this bike race that I was at. He had a band aid on his cheek. I wanted to ask him about it, but I didn’t because… Well, here is what my thought process went like.
“I wonder why he has that band aid on his face. It kind of looks like it might have just been a scratch. It’s right in the middle of his cheek. Actually, it looks more like he had a mole, or something cancerous removed. I should ask him about the band aid. But what if it was cancerous and that upsets him? True he doesn’t get upset that often, but what if I’m the one who upsets him by asking. What if it’s something stupid and he’s embarrassed? Plus, I bet everyone has been asking him about it all day. I won’t ask.”
I never asked, but once I realized my problem I wondered why not. It’s not like this man was unaware of the band aid on his face. Like if I had asked he’d go, “what band aid?” Or if he’d had a mole removed, it’s not like he wouldn’t know it had been removed. Even f he was embarrassed, it’s not like that’s my fault. Plus, if he was THAT embarrassed maybe he just shouldn’t have gone out in public with the band aid on.
So, I guess maybe my point is that I over think things. Often I wonder about deep things and don’t care about the superficial. I hate to pry. And, I’m too concerned about upsetting other people.
The End
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